The Enchanted
by enchantedstarlight
Summary: The Forbidden Forest holds many secrets, not all of them terrible. Some are incredibly beautiful and powerful. Two students are driven there, each on a desperate quest to protect their families from the growing power of Lord Voldemort.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – Characters and universe for this story are borrowed from JK Rowling and the Harry Potter universe. I own none of that, and receive no financial compensation for this work. I only play here.

A/N: This story follows canon until approximately August of DH. After that, it is completely AU.

It will be rather on the sexy side in later chapters (not smut, but mention of nudity - you are warned)

Reviewers: if you find that something in the writing makes you decide you _don't_ want to read further, please pop a review and let me know why. It is an area where I'm trying to improve, and I value your input. Thanks.

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Chapter 1 - Leading to Desperation

-- - --

_"What brings you to this decision, Genevra?" The blue eyed creature asked._

_She found herself focused on the magnitude of the meaning behind that question. What would lead a person to give up everything they've ever known? What circumstances could possibly be so dire as to force a person to be willing to transfigure their very selves into a different being?_

_The answer was simple, she thought as she responded, "Everything that matters."_

_There was only one certainty-- regardless of her choice, she would never see most of her family ever again._

- - -

The dream haunted Ginny. She'd had the same dream at least four times since Harry, Ron and Hermione had left only a few short weeks ago. Each time she woke, she convinced herself that the dream was only a result of the stress of the current circumstances and her frustration over her inability to do anything to help. For the entire summer, she'd been trapped in the safety of her home, making the situation feel more stifling than the late summer heat.

Normally the end of August was a time of joy for Ginny. Over the years, she'd always welcomed the time when her brothers would be enjoying the last days of summer before school started, and of course, Harry would always manage to visit. It was typically a time where she could enjoy the company of everyone she loved together under the same roof.

To her dismay, this summer had been completely different.

This summer Voldemort had taken control of the Ministry of Magic and uncertainty about the future overshadowed the lives of every single individual she had ever known. Nothing seemed like it would ever be normal ever again.

No wonder she was having nightmares about giving up her life. Unlike summers past, the house which once buzzed with summer activity was practically empty.

If she didn't think too hard about it, she could imagine that it was just a normal part of everyone growing up and moving on. After all, Bill was now married with a home of his own, Charlie was off with his dragons, and Percy was, well, wherever Percy was.

But that type of thinking was only a short term diversion.

She didn't want to dwell on that right now. She was busy packing and doting on thoughts of Harry, and trying her best to figure out a way that she could be of help him. She worried about him, she worried about her brother, and, of course Hermione, all gone all summer. She was angry she wasn't asked to join them, and she was frustrated about being unable to do anything but sit and wait for whatever would happen. She didn't know how, with such distraction, that she'd be able to concentrate on school work at all.

Taking a break from her late night packing, she decided to wander downstairs for a snack before bedtime. Certain that her parents would be asleep, she moved out of her room quietly.

As she approached the kitchen, she began to overhear tones of a heated conversation. She debated about turning back to her room, but upon hearing the mention of her name, she froze.

"I don't want Ginny to have any part of it," she heard her father insist.

Something about the conversation caused her to feel a small amount of indignation about not being included. The words prompted her to remain outside the door and hopefully find out what 'it' was.

Not that she was surprised that they were trying to keep something from her. All summer, her parents had discussed current events in hushed whispers, protecting her from what lay ahead. She was certain they knew about what Harry was doing, yet whenever she asked or tried to hint about being involved, she was brushed off. What was most annoying, however, was that it seemed that each time she came near, conversations were dropped.

She paused by the door to the kitchen, trying to ascertain who was in there, justifying her intrusion by saying to herself that if they really didn't want her to eavesdrop, they should have put a silencing charm on the room.

Through the crack in the door, she identified her mother and at least one of the twins as well as her father. Bill was there too, and she felt annoyed that nobody had bothered to let her know he'd arrived. Obviously, they didn't want her to know about whatever was happening. Again.

"Dad, we may not have a choice," she heard her brother Bill say. "She's going to be at school. We can't watch over her there."

"We can try," her father argued. "We can move her to a safe house somewhere."

"For how long? Dad, this could last for years," her brother reasoned.

"I know."

"She's got to finish school and live her own life. She's a lot more capable and independent than we give her credit for," Bill added.

She silently thanked Bill for the vote of confidence.

"Things are getting worse, then," she heard one of the twins say.

"No question about it," Bill said. "The disappearances have increased, despite what we see published in The Prophet. Enough information gets out to keep people scared. If You-Know-Who is capable of anything, it's manipulating the masses and he's doing a right good job of it. From what I'm seeing at the bank, people have stopped spending money, and there is serious speculation that the economy is going to collapse. It will create chaos, and I'm sure that he's orchestrating that to gain even more control."

"People will gravitate to a leader, a bad one in absence of anything else," her father added.

"Exactly," Bill agreed.

"So, do you think she'll be safe at school?" her mother asked.

"I'm pretty sure. They want to train the ones young enough to fit into the new order. I don't think he's after the kids... yet."

"Maybe she could go somewhere else?" she heard a twin. She thought it was George.

"Hey, America's got a couple of good schools..." Fred suggested. "We could have a great time visiting her there.

"She'll do no such thing," her mother said, firmly closing the door on the subject. "Hogwart's is far enough away. We'd never be able to get proper word to her should anything happen."

"Agreed, Molly" her father added.

"When Harry finds what he needs, You-Know-Who will get desperate," Bill stated.

"Yeah, like a cornered rat."

She couldn't help but wonder what exactly Harry was looking for. She barely suppressed saying something.

Bill added, "It won't be fun when that happens."

"No, it won't," Arthur agreed. "Does the Order still think that Hogwart's will be the location?"

"More than likely," Bill said. "There aren't many places that are that central to so much old magic. The castle itself has over a thousand years of secrets. Anything could be hidden in there. Even before it was a school, it was the hub of research in both Dark and Light magic for generations."

"Well what's a thousand years of focused magic, give or take?" Fred remarked somberly.

"It gets more interesting," Bill said. "Even before the castle was there, there was something about the place. There are divining lines crossing that location, even more than can be found at Stonehenge. The magic in the spot goes deeper than almost anywhere in the wizarding world. If there's a physical place for drawing power, that school is sitting right on it."

"Oh, dear," she heard her mother mutter.

"So, we need a plan for what to do if it happens that You-Know-Who decides to try to attack the school," her father suggested.

"I think so. With Snape in charge, I don't know how we'll be able to gain access to the place. We'd need to find a way in, if necessary to defend it and the students."

"Can Ginny help, by being inside already?" George asked.

_Bless her brothers_, she thought.

"No!" her mother interjected, cutting off any possible continuation of the idea. "She will NOT be involved." Ginny felt her anger rise. She wanted to help, **needed** to help so very badly. Why couldn't they at least consider that?

"Alright then," her father agreed. "We get in, and one of you gets her out of there. She'll not be anywhere near any sort of fighting."

_Arrgh!_

She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep any sound from escaping, although every fiber of her being wanted to shout and stomp and throw a legitimate temper tantrum. The feeling only intensified as she listened to the conversation turn to possible plans for how they would effectively kidnap her and force her into hiding should events become dangerous.

Fuming, she quietly crept back up to her room to finish her packing.

She had a difficult time hiding her anger at her family for the next two days, as she waited to return to school.

- - -

Ginny boarded the train for her sixth year at Hogwarts with a heavy heart.

She didn't want to go. She didn't want to be there. She wanted to be with Harry, helping him in whatever way possible. It took every ounce of will to not to turn back and try to find some way of getting involved. As she waved a final goodbye to her parents, she saw their fear at letting her go.

She felt frustration at their protectiveness, but, after a great deal of thought, she'd finally come to the conclusion that being at school might prove marginally better than remaining at the Burrow. The more she considered the options, the more she realized that, at least at school, she might have a chance to do something outside of her parents' almost smothering supervision. After all, she thought, look at what Harry, Ron and Hermione have gotten by with over the years.

She sighed heavily as she thought about Harry, worrying about him, and wondering if he might be missing her too.

Neville, Luna and Colin eventually joined her in her compartment, and she felt herself releasing a heavy sigh as she embraced each of them.

"I am so glad to see you!" Ginny greeted them, her relief at seeing them evident.

"Glad to see you too, Gin," Neville returned. "I'm surprised that you're here, though. I figured you would be off with Harry."

Ginny shook her head, "Sorry Neville. I think they think that I'm too young, if you can believe it. So, you all are stuck with me."

Her friends smiled at her and she suddenly found herself feeling much more comfortable than she had over the entire summer. They held the same respect for her that she felt for them. They'd earned each others' trust and it was a nice change from dealing with her family.

Luna interrupted her brief reverie, "I heard Ron is sick. Is he alright?"

"He'll be fine. It's just spattergroit. Nothing a few months of rest won't cure," Ginny lied.

She couldn't believe that her parents had actually gone along with that little ruse, faking Ron's sickness while he was gone. But, in retrospect, they'd had little choice. She hated lying to her friends about it though. Ron wasn't sick, but she had no intention of correcting them on that matter. The fewer who knew the truth, the better for all involved.

"Are you sure he just doesn't want to come back because Hermione's not here?" Luna prodded. Luna was astute, Ginny had to give her credit. She was sure Luna suspected that the illness was a lie. How she did that, Ginny had no clue.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Ginny smiled.

"Hard to believe Hermione isn't allowed back to finish," Neville added. "I can't believe the smartest girl in the seventh year isn't allowed back."

"All because she's muggleborn. Dean too, and at least six others from Gryffindor," Luna added.

"The school is going to be awfully quiet without all of them," Ginny sighed, thinking once again of how she missed Harry. She was going to have to push those feelings aside, and soon, or it was going to be a very long, miserable year.

Apparently the others were also thinking about the obviously missing Harry Potter. Colin piped in, changing the somber topic. "Do you know where Harry is, Gin, or what he's doing? Can we help at all?"

The sight of the three inquisitive faces, all assuming that she somehow had some mysterious insight renewed her feelings of frustration.

"No," she replied, watching the three matched expressions of disappointment, "they've kept me out of everything. Apparently, they think I'm too helpless to be of any use to them."

Colin's spunky response lightened her mood, "You're about as helpless as a cranky hippogriff." he remarked. "I can't believe they think that."

"I agree," Luna said calmly. "I'm sure they have good reason to keep things secret, Ginny. I mean, they probably know that you'll just be unable to help while you're stuck at school with the rest of us."

"But there has to be _something _we can do!" Ginny insisted. "I mean, at the very least, we could spend our free time doing some sort of research, or coming up with a distraction, or ... anything."

"Maybe we can do something like that," Neville suggested. Ginny looked at her long time friend. Neville, always so shy and sweet, had somehow changed since the death of their headmaster. He seemed more hardened, more determined.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"They want us at Hogwart's to keep us out of the fight. They made it mandatory for us to be at the school, and I can guarantee, from what we know about the staffing changes, that they are going to start trying to train us to accept the new order that You-Know-Who is putting together. We can make sure that we don't make it easy for them. We can continue Dumbledore's Army."

Ginny smiled, and the others voiced their agreement. Yes. Yes they could. Maybe school wasn't going to be so awful this year after all, she mused.

- - -

Draco Malfoy had boarded the Hogwarts express, maintaining an air of confidence that he'd practiced all his life. It had always been a facade to some degree. He'd always been in the shadow of his powerful father, always had money and prestige to hide his insecurities about himself. He'd gotten so adept that he'd even come to believe his outward bravado, at least for a time. There were few who truly knew the real person underneath.

Unfortunately, Voldemort was now one of those few.

The last year had given ample opportunity for him to prove himself, and he'd failed.

He was smart, he knew that. And persistent, as he'd discovered as he worked through the year to solve the puzzle of the broken cabinets. But he was not a Death Eater.

For the first time in his seven years of attending Hogwart's, he was unsure of his status at the school, which said a great deal. All his life, his position had been well established, based clearly on his social standing. Each year, he'd entered the train being the envy of his friends. He'd been the undisputed leader of his house, the one that all the Slytherins had followed, feared and admired, largely due to his family's wealth and power.

In previous years, as the Dark Lord's power grew, so did Draco's position amongst his classmates, the ones that mattered anyway. This year, however, it was different.

This year, he'd been branded a coward and a failure by the Dark Lord himself. This year, he was no longer backed by his father's influence in the Ministry, nor the perception of his family's favor by the Dark Lord himself.

His family's years of loyal service to the Dark Lord had been wiped away in mere moments by, of all the foolish things, his own conscience.

He passed Vincent Crabbe and Greg Goyle on his way forward to the usual Slytherin compartments. Crabbe's reaction was his first indication that things had truly changed.

As they passed, Crabbe, who had been a constant companion for the past six years, now literally looked down his nose at Draco, as if he was somehow inferior. Goyle, as always, stood by his friend Crabbe, but had at least had the courtesy to look somewhat contrite about the snub. Draco drew up to his full height, looking up at the enormous bulk that was Vincent Crabbe, and drew on years of aristocratic upbringing to appear unaffected by the change in his classmates attitude toward him. He might be terrified, but at least he wouldn't outwardly show it.

He entered the compartment that the pair had just exited and found the remainder of his seventh year housemates. As he expected, the conversation was either about him or his family because their intense conversation abruptly stopped as soon as they recognized that it was he who had opened the door.

To say it was difficult to maintain an attitude of superiority was an understatement. Theodore Nott was giving every indication that he was holding court inside the car. '_Of course he would_,' Draco mused to himself.

Nott had been at the meetings over the summer and, unlike Draco, had gotten his Dark Mark. He'd witnessed first hand the humiliation the Malfoy family. He'd seen the Dark Lord take Lucius' wand, he'd seen Draco be declared unworthy. He had watched as Draco visibly shook with fear for himself and his family. There was no question that Nott had openly enjoyed it.

Theodore Nott was no fool. He'd seen that the balance of power among Voldemort's followers was being shifted away from the Malfoy family. The Dark Lord was leaving an opening for others to move up in ranks, and the vultures of the wizarding world were now positioning themselves to take advantage.

Viewing the situation objectively, it was logical that the Dark Lord was manipulating this situation to suit his own ends. By removing a powerful person such as Lucius Malfoy from his circle of leaders, Voldemort created an opening. The most ambitious of Voldemort's followers were now beside themselves in their efforts to impress him. It was quite Slytherin of him, actually.

But, Draco did not want to be objective.

The only reason that Draco was alive today was because of his aunt Bellatrix and her insane devotion to the creature that was the Dark Lord. Her position had, by its very nature, given the Dark Lord enough pause to show mercy. What was almost funny about the situation was that Bellatrix had done nothing to defend either Draco or his father by any direct action. The irony was almost poetic.

Now, however, Voldemort had somehow found degrading the Malfoys to be humorous. It suited his purpose, and Draco was now in the process of dealing with the repercussions of the Dark Lord's tactic.

Draco's disgust of the creature was only overshadowed by his fear of him. As Draco viewed his current situation, he felt a profound contempt for the Dark Lord growing inside of him. His father had risked a great deal for himself and his family while awaiting the Dark Lord's return, and their reward had been to be kicked aside as if they were trash.

His life was now changing drastically as he found himself to be now on his own, working to rebuild his position amongst his peers as best he could. It was new territory for him.

He entered the compartment and watched Theodore Nott behaving as though he was now the leader of the group, recounting his exploits over the summer. Theodore had personally been the one to lure Professor Burbage to her capture and subsequent death at the hands of the Dark Lord's pet snake, and he was currently basking in the glow of the Dark Lord's favor.

Draco sat among them, pretending that nothing had changed, as if he was somehow allowing Nott to have his moment of glory. He could not concede otherwise, but as time passed, he knew that things truly had changed. Even Pansy had turned to fawning over Nott.

Draco tried his best to look disinterested and bored, eventually feigning sleep to avoid taking part in the conversation while he took the opportunity to eavesdrop.

Nearing the end of the trip, he finally found the conversation palatable enough to join in.

Millicent had triggered the conversation with, "So, I hear we no longer will have to suffer with Muggle studies."

"Oh, we may, but I'm sure that it will likely include how we are going to subjugate the beasts," Nott gloated. "At least we no longer have to worry about dealing with that idiot, Burbage."

"Nott," Draco interrupted, "this is not the place to discuss such matters."

"Oh, Malfoy, so you've decided to join us," Nott sneered. The others watched the exchange with interest.

"Don't change the subject, Nott. You're mouth is running amok."

"Things are changing, Malfoy. You know that better than anyone. I've earned my place, and I'll speak as I like. The Dark Lord is in control now, and we don't need to hide any longer," Nott paused, then prodded his rival. "Of course, I understand that you might not have the courage to do anything but hide. Am I right Malfoy?"

"You're a fool, Nott. You'll find out in time."

Nott scoffed at the remark, "I think we all know who the fool is here. Things are different, and we have to earn respect, you don't get it for free anymore."

Mustering his best sneer, Draco got up and left the compartment, Pansy following quickly behind him.

"Draco, wait," she grabbed his arm before he stalked down the corridor.

"What do you want, Pansy. Nott might miss having you decorate his arm in there."

"I'm sorry, Draco," she almost looked genuinely regretful. "I've stood by you all last year when you ignored me, but I can't anymore. To be successful in this world, one needs power, and I'm afraid that things have changed. I have to do what's best for my future."

"Of course, Pansy. I wouldn't expect any less of you." He held no anger toward Pansy. She was simply being a Slytherin and looking out for herself.

He'd never loved the girl, though they'd been paired off and on for the last three years. In fact, during last year she'd spent more time with Blaise since Draco had been busy with his "project" and had neither the time nor desire to cater to the high-maintenance witch. But, she'd been convenient, an appropriate match and, at the very least, an ally. He fell short of calling her a friend. True friends were a rare occurance among Slytherins.

No, the actual insult to him was not that she'd left him, but why. Power. His name was no longer worthy of indisputable respect.

He wandered down the corridor of the train, working to avoid other students and barely containing his fury.

Draco faulted himself, of course. He had spent his sixth year in fear of failure, though he didn't know until the final moment that his failure would be his inability to utter a single killing curse.

He regretted failing his parents, but, as much as he had detested Dumbledore, the man had been right about one thing: killing was not an easy thing. As many times as Draco had recounted the moment, he simply could not have reacted differently. He was a failure in that regard, but, he was also angered by the severity of his family's punishment.

It was going to be a very long, tedious school year.


	2. Chapter 2 September Blues

- -

The arrival feast that year was somewhat odd for all attending.

For Ginny and her friends, it was somewhat surreal. The realization that Dumbledore was well and truly gone became painfully clear. To add to the foreboding feelings of change, they were constantly reminded by the number of empty places at the Gryffindor table that far too many of their friends had failed to return, not having sufficient blood status to be deemed worthy.

She failed to remember most of Snape's opening speech, being too distracted by the sound of disdain in the new Headmaster's voice as he addressed them. Worse, were the looks that she and her fellow Gryffindors were receiving from the new teachers now seated at the head table.

The hope she'd started to cultivate while on the train with her friends began to slowly wither away as she realized that this year Hogwarts was going to feel more like a prison than a school.

Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Draco sat near the only person he could possibly call a friend, Blaise Zabini.

Zabini had been named Head Boy, a title Draco had long coveted. He sighed in defeat over that. Not that he didn't agree with the choice, Blaise had played the game beautifully through the years. Part of him respected his friend, but nevertheless, Draco had never been one to lose gracefully.

Draco sulked at the dinner table, while trying to give the appearance of not sulking, and spent the dinner observing everyone in the room as much as possible, trying to determine some course of action that might allow him to regain his status among his peers. What he noticed, however, was disconcerting.

On the good side, most of his Slytherin classmates were overjoyed with the recent changes in the teaching staff. Having the Slytherin, Snape, as Headmaster gave their house a clear advantage over the other students. A nod from the Headmaster in his direction gave Draco the comfort of knowing that he remained a favorite of the former Potions professor. It was a small advantage that he would need over the year.

What troubled him, however, were the new faces now seated at the head table.

He barely hid a grimace as his gaze passed over the place where Professor Burbage once sat. The unwelcome memory of her death at Voldemort's hand came unbidden to his mind as his gaze passed over her former seat. He immediately struggled to push the thought to the back of his mind, but, unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough to keep himself from losing his appetite.

In Burbage's place was a harsh-looking witch that Draco knew to be Alecto Carrow.

She was only a few years older than he, perhaps mid-twenties, he guessed. But the deep set hardness of her expression suggested someone much older. The woman's features weren't necessarily unattractive, and Draco caught lewd remarks about her from a number of his housemates.

Draco personally found the witch to be distasteful. She was clearly uncouth and vulgar from his recollection of her, and, the manners, or lack thereof, that she was currently flaunting were only reinforcing his previous impressions.

She had been present at the same meeting where Burbage had been murdered and he couldn't help but wonder if she'd had the nerve to possibly apply for the newly opened position that same night. Apparently, Muggle Studies would still be taught, but it would likely be taught with a very different perspective due to Carrow's instruction.

He tried not to linger on her too long as she was introduced, as he'd caught her looking in his direction once or twice and the look unsettled him.

Alecto's brother, Amycus, sat next to her and was introduced as the new Dark Arts teacher. Again, the students near him expressed a hearty approval. Draco watched, with some amusement, as the other houses reacted with shock and fear.

Draco found himself ambivalent about the new course. He'd seen and been exposed to enough Dark Arts to recognize that the course would likely be quite dull for him.

However, it was the look he received from the newly appointed professor that made him internally cringe. Carrow's expression showed a distinct hatred directed solely toward him, and Draco found it to be more than slightly disturbing. Draco finally decided that he could only describe the look as predatory.

As the banquet came to its conclusion, Draco received a brief nod from the Headmaster. It was the only bit of encouragement he'd received all day, and he appreciated it. He had at least an ally in Snape.

- - -

Ginny was grateful that she at least had Luna and Colin in most of her classes to help her try to keep her sanity because it soon became apparent that things were far worse at Hogwarts than anyone had anticipated. Though many of their former teachers remained, there were clearly differences under the new headmaster that Ginny and her friends found deeply disturbing.

One specific example was her new least-favorite class, a required course that had been created to reflect the times, called 'Dark Arts'. Everything about the class disgusted her: the lesson plan, the books, the classroom and the teacher.

Most especially the teacher.

Amycus Carrow exuded pure evil, and Ginny could barely stand to be in the man's presence. From the onset, it was quite clear that Carrow was a loyal follower of Voldemort, and the malicious smile he gave as his new students entered the dungeon classroom was enough to send some of the younger students into tears.

The Gryffindors in the class soon learned that they were not exactly expected to learn anything useful from the coursework. It appeared that the full objective was to set up opportunity for each of them to fail in some respect so that Carrow could distribute appropriate punishment.

After the first week, several had already received detention from the new, _ahem_, teacher. Ginny had avoided the same fate so far, but she knew that her reprieve was going to be short-lived. Already, she felt her temper pressed to its limit, and when she let loose, she was certain to be punished severely. It was only going to be a matter of time.

Her remaining classes were relatively normal, but each one seemed to carry a twinge of darkness behind it. Even her transfiguration class carried an edge, where Professor McGonagall seemed to use as much time as possible to prepare her Gryffindor students for the worst that was expected to come.

But all the negativity aside, Ginny found one surprise in her repertoire. Strangely enough, Divination had become Ginny's favorite class. Despite all her past annoyance with the course, she suddenly discovered that she found herself eagerly looking forward to her time in the warm, stuffy classroom.

To say Divination had never been her favorite class was a bit of an understatement. Actually, prior to this year, Ginny could definitively say that she outright detested the subject, and not only because of Harry's numerous bad experiences with it. Over the years, Ginny had reached her own conclusion that the only students who liked it seemed enamored with unrealistic expectations, or were simply victims of overactive imaginations.

Ginny simply couldn't abide by that. She had lived with far too much reality to imagine that tea leaves would hold some sort of mystical answer for her.

But she didn't dwell on these facts anymore because all of her reasons for disliking the subject no longer mattered. In fact, the irony of it was that the class remained as uninteresting and uninformative as ever. The beauty of her newfound appreciation of the course was that its useless nature was its greatest appeal.

Ginny had come to accept that, while Professor Trelawney wasn't the most capable of teachers, she was basically harmless. She'd retained her position for years out of the sheer kindness of Professor Dumbledore. The fact that she still maintained her position, despite the new leadership at the school, lent a measure of normalcy and comfort that Ginny couldn't quite quantify.

In short, for the time that she was there, Ginny felt safe and isolated from the rest of the world.

So it came to pass that Ginny no longer looked at the tea leaves with utter disdain. In fact, she found herself changing to work on her assignments with an amused playfulness. It became a game, and she looked forward to the class almost as much as she looked forward to time on her broom.

Then, three weeks into the school year, she had her first encounter with the crystal ball.

It had been a normal enough day up to that point. She'd been assigned her first detention of the year for getting caught insulting Carrow behind his back, Neville had planned a meeting for recruiting members for Dumbledore's Army, and one of the Hufflepuffs in her Potions class brewed something that smelled so foul that half the class felt compelled to vomit.

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief when she entered the Divination classroom looking forward to the respite. That was when Trelawney took out a box of the harmless looking crystal balls.

She hadn't expected anything to come of the assignment. After all, it wasn't the first time that she had encountered the objects and they had never been anything to provoke any kind of fear. So Ginny accepted her crystal with a warm enthusiasm and settled herself on her favorite spot on the far side of the classroom.

Getting comfortable, she took her crystal and played with it's smooth surface for a bit before even attempting to concentrate. She liked the feel of the object. It was really quite a beautiful thing, even if it was quite useless, she thought.

Placing the heavy crystal in front of her on a coffee table, she sat cross-legged on the thick, comfortable carpet. She rolled the object playfully at first, and the warmth of the room started making her sleepy. She held the ball and, partly out of boredom, let her mind wander. She wasn't concentrating, but her intent was to give the appearance that she was, so that the teacher would think that she was actually attempting her assignment.

It was a simple enough plan, or so she thought. Unfortunately, that was where things went unbelievably wrong. As Ginny lazily stared into the crystal surface, the thing, without any warning whatsoever, began to glow with a misty green haze inside its once clear depths.

Ginny gasped.

She looked into the foggy haze and started to see shapes form, and as they became clearer, she felt herself being drawn into the scene.

_She was in St. Mungo's staring vacantly at the white walls and feeling decidedly lost. There was a nervous energy that seemed to permeate her. Anticipation. Dread. _

_The feelings were so overwhelming that she thought they might consume her. A moment of fear warned her to go back, but her curiosity overrode the warning. She stayed, trying to make sense of what was important about this room._

_Finally, after a short amount of time she heard a door open, and she turned to see her father exit a room. He looked disheveled, no, worse than that, he looked devastated. Fred was standing next to a girl that she quickly recognized as a version of herself, his arm around her shoulders, uncharacteristically quiet and subdu_ed.

"_Da, is he going to be alright?", her other self asked, reverting to her baby name for her father. When she called her father "Da" she knew that she was in desperate need of reassurance._

"_I hope so, Gin-bug, I hope so," he came forward, hugging her, then reaching to pull Fred into the embrace as well. _

"_What about Mum? What about everyone else?" She saw herself ask him desperately._

_The vacant look in his eyes said far too much. He looked like his world had been shattered. _

"_It's just the three of us now, kitten. Just the three of us."_

_She watched the other version of herself collapse in shock as Fred held her, her wail of grief echoing through the room. _

Ginny snapped out of the vision, shaking and terrified.

She spent the next several minutes trying to convince herself that what she had just seen could not possibly have been real.

- -

From the first day of classes, he had found himself targeted by Professor Amycus Carrow. It wasn't so much that he was unaccustomed to being under the critical eye of some teachers, after all, McGonagall had never particularly liked him, but this was different. The man frequently watched him openly with a look of utter loathing.

The fact that the man was the new head of Slytherin House was not working in Draco's favor in the least.

The worst part of it was that, from the moment he'd arrived, he was given a lesson in what it meant to be a commoner. The first thing that Carrow had done when the students entered the Slytherin Common room was to reallocate the living arrangements. Draco soon found that his preferred room was reallocated to Nott, Flint and their best friends.

Draco was relegated to sharing a bunk with several sixth year students. He fumed silently, but outwardly gave the impression that the switch was irrelevant to him.

That was only the first of many slights from his new head of house.

About the only thing that he'd been able to maintain was his Prefect status, and that, he assumed, was only because he remained a favorite of Headmaster Snape. Unfortunately, being a Prefect only increased his time with Carrow.

The sad truth was that, aside from the fact that he was effectively isolated and somewhat tormented at school, it was a situation far preferable to being at home.

Draco walked down the hallway, hoping to escape to the Quidditch pitch and fly out the frustration he'd been feeling since he'd received his mother's most recent letter. Things were not going well for the Malfoys, and even though his mother never mentioned the exact events, there was enough unsaid to know that his parents were basically prisoners in their own home.

"I've been looking for you, Mr. Malfoy."

_Ugh_, he muttered to himself, recognizing the voice of Carrow. The tone of greeting banished any hope Draco held that they were only going to exchange courtesies and be on their separate ways.

"Yes, Professor," he responded as blandly as possible, attempting to avoid provoking the man's ire.

"It's come to my attention that you've not been interacting with your peers much lately."

His peers. Draco bit back a scoffing remark. He truly felt that he currently had no peers within the school walls.

"My studies have come first this year, Professor." He bit out the title 'professor' as he talked to Carrow. The man was hardly worthy of respect, but he had to address him as something, and authority figure or not, there was no way he was going to address this scum as 'sir'.

"Ah yes, your marks have been even more impressive than usual. Surely, you can make time to spend time with your friends. All work and no play is not healthy."

As Carrow mentioned the word 'play', the image of a cat toying with a mouse suddenly popped into Draco's head. He tried to dispel the thought quickly.

"I was thinking that it might do well for you to assist with more of the correction of the lesser students."

He groaned inwardly, knowing that the teacher was insinuating that he should be practicing torture spells on students in detention. The thought was distasteful at best.

"After all, you are a prefect, and I expect more from you than simply meeting your duties of patrols and such. I noticed that you've become quite lenient with some of the lessers."

So he'd grown a conscience and stopped doling out detention, especially to the younger ones. No good deed goes unpunished, Draco realized.

"You had best watch yourself, Mr. Malfoy. Your family's weakness is very much under scrutiny these days."

He had to respond to this, nobody insulted his family, "There is nothing weak about my family, Professor."

"You'd best watch your mouth, or the Dark Lord will see your family line ending with you."

He'd heard this threat before, from ones far more powerful than this gutter trash.

"If there's nothing further, Professor," he spat and moved to turn away.

The filth had the audacity to grab his arm and stop him from departing.

"Oh there is plenty more to discuss," Carrow told him menacingly. "Your time has passed. If you don't play along, then you'll find yourself worse than dead."

"I'll take that under advisement, Professor," Draco responded, trying not to appear as shaken as he felt. The man's words were far too close to the mark.

- -

She looked away from the horrible sight of the crystal ball, now looking deceptively innocent and clear.

Her mind tried to wrap around the horrible vision she'd just witnessed, and even though she'd viewed the scene from the point of view of a third party in the room, she felt nothing but fresh grief and horror, as if she'd been the Ginny in that room.

They were dead. All dead. Except for her father and Fred. She sat in the semi dark classroom and started to hyperventilate. She felt a sudden need for air, and the dark warm classroom was suffocating her. She pushed away from the table, causing the crystal ball to roll off and thud lifelessly onto the carpeted floor.

One of her classmates turned to her and asked if something was wrong. She found herself unable to respond at first. As the girl started to look alarmed, Ginny forced herself to finally mutter, "Sorry, I think I nodded off there for a second."

The girl smiled in agreement, "It wouldn't be the first time anyone has in here. Good thing class is almost over. We can take a walk outside if it will help you wake up. Wouldn't want you to be too sleepy for Quidditch tryouts, you know."

Ginny found herself dumbfounded. The ministry had been overthrown, people were mysteriously disappearing, or worse, the world was on the brink of open war, and this girl was talking about Quidditch! Once again, the absurdities of why she was even at this school made her blood run hot with  
fury. She didn't know if the image she saw was real or not, but now, she knew she needed to find out. If that image was real, she needed to do everything in her power to make certain it didn't come to pass.

She contemplated trying to talk to Professor Trelawney about the incident. Waving off her friends, she lingered behind in the classroom. She needed more information, a lot more.

The Professor was about a loony as they came, but, right now, she was the only expert available. Not sure of how the professor, who was notoriously over-enthusiastic about prophesies regarding any kind of doom, would react to her vision, she decided to voice her concern without being too forthcoming about the details.

Holding the offensive crystal ball, Ginny walked up to the front desk as the woman nervously collected the crystals from the departing students, reminding each to write up their reports on the lesson.

"Professor?" Ginny started to say.

"Yes, dear?" the professor looked at her expectantly, through her giant bug like glasses. The expression in Trelawney's blank gaze gave Ginny very little hope, but she tried anyway.

"Is what you see in the crystal..." she started.

The blank look in her gaze turned to enthusiasm. Ginny's heart sank. At least the woman truly did care if her students succeeded, she supposed.

"Yes dear?"

"Is the vision in the crystal something that will definitely come to pass?"

"Did you see something, child?" the teacher asked, sounding just a bit too enthusiastic.

"Not exactly," Ginny lied.

"Pity," the professor said as the look on her face fell. "I'm afraid that the uncertainty of our future makes it more and more difficult to predict with any confidence."

Those words were a good sign. Ginny decided to press forward with her question.

"But Professor, if I could see something, if I really could... is what I see real? Will it happen exactly like that, or could it be changed?"

This piqued the interest of the professor, causing Ginny to breathe a sigh of relief. The professor's eyes once again lit with the abstraction of teaching her craft, "The future is always changing, dear. The crystal matches the ebb and flow of the world. That is why even the best seers sometimes appear to be incorrect in their predictions."

Well, those were the words Ginny had hoped to hear, but they brought her very little comfort. She still felt her hands shaking from the images she'd seen in the crystal. There would be no Quidditch for her. There wouldn't be anything until she figured this thing out.

"Thank you, Professor. I was wondering, though, if I could keep trying and if I could keep the crystal to practice?"

"Of course dear," Sybill Trelawney smiled at her somewhat sadly as she turned to leave the room. One didn't need to be a seer to understand that the woman felt a sense of foreboding about the future. They all shared that.

Ginny left feeling discouraged. She mulled over the professor's words, and the more she thought, the less comforting they were.

Of course Trelawney would say the prediction was only a possibility. Trelawney had had her moments, as had been proven when they'd found Harry's prophesy, but overall, the professor was a terrible seer. Most of her predictions were simply examples of her imagination gone amok, and lately, they'd all only involved the demise of one Harry Potter. It only made sense that she would be inclined to say that predictions could be altered since most of her predictions never came true.

Ginny sighed, took her crystal ball and went to the library to read up on all she could on the subject. She never would have guessed that she would ever have any interest in the subject of Divination.

- - - -

A/N - The inspiration for Ginny's dilemma, and most of this story, is the song "Crystal Ball" by Styx. I always thought that that song would make a cool theme song for one of the Harry Potter movies.


	3. Chapter 3 Escape

A/N - Hi all! For those of you waiting for D/G interaction, it's not quite yet, but once it starts, it's nonstop.

This chappie is un-beta'd as of yet, but I was eager to post it, so please keep that in mind. I'll update the changes when I get it back.

--

Chapter 3 - Escape

--

She skipped Quidditch tryouts and spent the remainder of the afternoon in the library. Sadly, all her reading only made her more confused. The books gave conflicting information and theories on the validity of a vision. Some said that prophesy was cast in concrete, others said it was always changing.

Apparently, even the experts could not agree on this stuff. No wonder most reasonable wizards ignored prophecies.

By the time she left, she was hungry and discouraged. She barely got down to the Great Hall in time for dinner, only leaving the library when her tummy was growling loud enough to make Madam Pince give her dirty looks.

She sat at the Gryffindor table, and had to listen to Seamus prattle on about how irresponsible she was for missing the afternoon Quidditch tryout.

"Seamus, please, I really had something more important to do. I'm sorry, but the Quidditch pitch is just not where I needed to be."

"You know how we need you, Ginny! We've only got a bunch of fourth years and a second year who look promising. Without Harry..."

"Seamus, stop!" Ginny barked.

He sat back, looking stunned at her outburst.

"How can you think of Quidditch at times like this? How?" she pleaded. "Yes, Harry's not here, neither is Ron. But do you really think that with all that is happening that I can care the slightest about something as trivial as Quidditch?"

Neville looked on, his attention drawn by her outburst. Seamus, had the good grace to look abashed as he realized the effect he'd caused by his misplaced priorities.

"Ginny," Neville interrupted. "We're all worried. You know that. But if we are going to be successful on trying to do some good, we can't hide. We have to go on with our normal routines, because someday, this thing will be over. We need to set an example for the younger ones."

The others stared open mouthed at Neville. An outside observer might have found the sight funny. But Neville continued, unperturbed. "Besides, if we start acting weird, it will just draw even more attention to us. If we are going to try to help, we need to stay inconspicuous, and the best way to do that, is to pretend that we're just fine with the status quo."

Seamus looked at Neville in awe, Colin had also overheard his words and his face showed admiration. Neville was changing. He was right, of course, but it was the way he spoke that made his words powerful. This soft-spoken boy had a wisdom from his life experience that was now turning him into  
a leader. It was wonderful to see.

She took a moment to gape at him, and took in all the expressions around them. They were still Dumbledore's Army, and while she now had her own agenda, she couldn't jeopardize them. She would have to find her answers on her own, but she couldn't interfere with the rest of her friends.

"You're right, Neville," she responded. She turned to Seamus, "I'm sorry Seamus."

Seamus took a moment to recover from his shock, both from Neville's wisdom and Ginny's apology. He cleared his throat, looked at Ginny, "So, do you want to be Seeker this year or not?"

Seeker. She'd done it once before, and it was a dream come true. Of course she'd wanted that, so very much, once upon a time. Today, it meant nothing. But, Neville had been correct, and they must carry on. Her heart broke as she reluctantly agreed.

- - -

-

Fortunately for Draco, Blaise Zabini's personality was not typical of the usual Slytherin stereotype. While his dark haired, blue-eyed friend was just as much into scheming as any self-respecting Slytherin should be, he was not one who was enamored with being a Death Eater.

Blaise was an anomaly in that respect. He was surprisingly neutral.

That was the only reason that Draco still found Zabini to be worthy of his time. He felt he could learn something from Zabini's carefully maintained neutrality. It was no wonder that Blaise was chosen as Head Boy. He was both Slytherin, therefore, in the House favored by the Dark Lord, yet, he was not a Death Eater, so he would not be entirely rejected by members of the other houses. It was a unique position and Draco envied him.

Since the start of the school term, Blaise had come to notice his friend's subtle changes. If anything, the new Head Boy was observant, and his intuition had served him well in the past. In Blaise's view, Draco had been trying his best to maintain the blustery, arrogant demeanor he'd always maintained, but this year, Blaise knew it to be a facade. Draco had changed, and the change went deeper than simply dealing with the disfavor he'd suffered from the Dark Lord.

He'd noticed that Draco's very foundation of belief had been shaken.

Blaise liked Draco, he truly did, but he needed to know where his friend stood in the grand scheme. After all, knowledge was power, and if Draco no longer was as loyal to the Dark Lord as he'd expressed in the past, that knowledge could be used. This was how the Slytherin game was played. Friendships were only as useful as the advantages they provided. Malfoy was no longer a name that held power in itself, and Draco was now on his own.

Personally, Blaise didn't care whether or not Draco remained loyal to the Dark Lord. It was irrelevant. What was important to Blaise was having information that would be of value to him, regardless of which side won out in the end of this upcoming conflict. It was all about self-preservation and ambition.

So, over the first few weeks of the term, Blaise continued to maintain a careful relationship with his old friend. They typically chatted amiably about classes and Quidditch, until the one day when Draco's abbreviated answers gave him the opening to probe for information.

"So, I can't help but notice that you've been rather quiet this year," Blaise observed.

"I wouldn't call it quiet. Reserved, perhaps, but I don't think of myself as quiet."

"I do. You haven't even taken to bullying the firsties, and that's not like you."

"I didn't bully them last year either. I didn't have the time. There's no difference."

Blaise looked at Draco's impassive face. The reaction was the best he could hope for in the current circumstances. "Yes there, is," Blaise reasoned. "Don't lie to me, Draco, I understand you better than that. Your priorities have changed."

"They have not. I've just matured."

Blaise chuckled at the wording of his friend's response, "There's maturing, and then, there's something more. What is it?"

"Does it really matter?"

"You know it does."

Draco understood his meaning. Blaise knew that his priorities had now shifted from the blind devotion that he'd once known. He truly had changed. The question Draco now faced was whether or not he trusted his longtime housemate to share his newfound perspective. His internal debate was brief, however, and logic quickly overcame his need to confide in someone. Blaise might understand, but he could not be trusted.

"Nothing has changed. I'm just bored with the trivial school stuff. It's time to move on."

"If that's how you feel."'

"Of course it's how I feel," Draco replied, his frustration evident. "How can I care about anything as trivial as these petty schoolyard brawls when I have seen..." He left the rest unfinished. He couldn't describe what he'd seen the Dark Lord do, even if he was at liberty to try. Draco knew he could not tread carefully enough in this conversation, where every word could possibly be used against him, the fewer words he could say, the better.

"I won't coddle you," Blaise said, not missing Draco's deliberate silence. He took some pity on his old friend, and decided to share what he could. "Nott and Carrow are looking for advantages, and you are a prime target right now. Nott's felt like he's been in your shadow for too long, and he's ambitious."

"I got that Carrow didn't like me. He's nothing but gutter trash. He's not worth the dirt on my shoes."

Blaise nodded. Such a remark was the same old Malfoy. That sort of thinking would get him killed sooner rather than later. He chose his warning carefully, "He might be, but he's got the Dark Lord's attention right now."

"He needs minions, and Carrow is enough of a brute to fit the bill. The Dark Lord is playing them to suit his own ends, and they'll be discarded when they're no longer needed." Draco couldn't help but think that Crabbe and Goyle had, until this year, followed him just as blindly. It was a disturbing comparison.

"Your aunt, Bellatrix, she fits in as well, yeah?"

"Yeah. She does." He didn't add the fact that it seemed that only the truly insane seemed to fit properly into Voldemort's inner circle. He started to realize that he wasn't anywhere near that level of insanity, and had little wish to qualify.

Draco mentally shuddered, as that thought triggered an epiphany. He realized that he was slowly being driven by Voldemort to fit into the ranks of those who were mad enough to follow him blindly. If he had been frightened in the past, he now found himself truly terrified. Draco forced himself to externally betray none of his feelings to Blaise.

"You know what you need to do yet?"

"I've no idea. No idea at all. But I've got till the end of the school year to figure it out."

"If you're lucky," Blaise speculated.

That comment didn't give Draco any comfort. It wasn't meant to. It was merely stating a fact. It reinforced the fact that he was truly alone in his dilemma.

"You know that if anyone can figure out how to come out on top in all of this, it will be me," Draco stated with as much practiced arrogance as possible.

"I'm sure of that. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be talking to you right now. It would be bad for my image," Blaise responded.

It was as close to an expression of encouragement as a Slytherin could manage in any circumstance. Draco understood, and nodded his goodbye as he turned to leave.

Blaise watched him walk down the hallway to the Slytherin common room and sincerely hoped that his friend could overcome his current disadvantage and find his own path in the world as it now existed.

Unlike Blaise himself, Draco had been strongly allied with one side in the politics of the day. The Malfoy family had gambled heavily on their favor with the Dark Lord and had little room for maneuverability. Draco was now in a very, very difficult position. He sympathized with his friend's predicament, but could not, and would not, jeopardize his own position to help.

- -

Ginny awoke in a cold sweat. It was the third night in a row that she'd had the same nightmare. Each time, she relived the images that she'd seen in the crystal ball. Each time, the dreams only seemed to grow more detailed, and, if possible, worse.

She'd barely been apart from her family for a month, she couldn't imagine how she was going to cope with the school year if this paranoid behavior continued to haunt her.

She'd tried to talk to Luna and Neville, but each of them had their own issues. Luna was working to help her father with his propaganda at the Quibbler, and Neville had taken up what could only be described as a crusade against the system.

She admired the both of them for their determination. Unfortunately, seeing both of them become so very absorbed in their sense of purpose only reminded Ginny that she was sorely lacking a purpose of her own. She started to wonder if being haunted by the visions was what might drive her to discover her own destiny in the upcoming war.

Her studies suffered the most. All except, oddly, Divination. She filled in her duties as best she could during the next two weeks, but her preoccupation with the vision in the crystal ball didn't subside. If anything, it came to haunt her more and more as the days passed.

It was late one night that she woke up yet again in a cold sweat, her nightmares once again interrupting her exhausted sleep. She'd had enough.

She got out of bed and took the accursed crystal ball out once again and set it on her bed.

It looked so innocent as it sparkled in the moonlight.

Such a simple object, yet, it had caused her so much grief. She looked it over, repressing the urge to hurl the thing out the window. She couldn't help but wonder if she could have found any contentment in her current existence if she'd never seen the image in the foul thing.

She'd tried several times since that day in the classroom to recreate the circumstances that led to her "vision", but to no avail. Each attempt only left her staring at the crystal's clear empty face.

The failed attempts had left her both frustrated and encouraged. Encouraged, because she was starting to wonder if she'd actually only imagined the whole incident. After all, she'd often fallen asleep during Divination in the past. Was it possible that she'd only fallen asleep again and all she'd experienced that day was a rather livid dream?

She needed to move on from this thing. She needed to help Neville build Dumbledore's army, and  
she wasn't very competent at it while she was obsessed with this premonition.

Sighing heavily, she pulled the cold crystal into her lap as she settled back onto her bed. She didn't bother with the candles and incense this time, as they didn't seem to do much more than distract her anyway. Besides, she didn't want to wake up her roommates. Thinking that her movement around would probably bother them, she cast a silencing charm around her bed and looked at the beautiful object that she'd now come to disdain.

"Alright you stupid thing. I don't believe you anymore, and I'm pretty sure I've imagined the whole incident. So, I'm not even sure why I'm trying again, but this is the last time," she said to the ball. It didn't say anything back, and she figured that was a good thing.

No, she really didn't believe that anything was going to happen, but it was something to do, since it was the middle of the night and she couldn't sleep anyway. She took a deep breath, sighed and tried to relax, hoping she might at least fall back to sleep. Nothing happened for several minutes, and she felt herself relaxing further. She was now becoming confident that she really had imagined everything that she'd seen in the classroom. She was just about to fall back and attempt to go back to sleep when the green glow of clouds began to emerge in the depths of the ball. She groaned in disappointment.

Forcing herself to remain calm, she reached down and touched it, feeling the normally cool crystal emanating an odd warmth. The clouds slowly coalesced into an image and with mixed feelings, she watched.

_The image differed from before, making her feel more intrigued instead of fearful. This time, the grounds of Hogwarts emerged from the green mist. She could see that it was a lovely night, sometime in late spring, as she noticed the details of new leaves on the trees. _

_As the image continued, her interest was drawn to the hillside near the front gates, where she saw flashes of light. She moved in closer to see the source of all the activity, the action almost seeming like she was on a broomstick flying closer._

_What she saw was a battle of sorts, though she still needed to get closer to see what was happening. She felt oddly detached, yet, the image was as real as if she was actually there, almost smelling the sharp scent of electrical charge from the spells being cast over the area._

_And then she smelled the blood._

_As she looked more closely, the sight that met her gaze was worse than any nightmare she'd had in the last two weeks. She wanted to look away, but the stronger part of her willed herself to watch, hopefully to gather information. _

_The images burned into her mind. A giant was approaching the castle and she saw Percy swept aside like a rag doll. Blasts struck the walls and she saw her mother pushing aside one of the twins before she disappeared under a pile of rubble. Charlie was trying to pull his father away from the wreckage as a flash of green struck him from behind. Bill was in a deadly duel with a Death Eater and she saw him fall also. She saw Ron, Harry and Hermione surrounded, but she found herself being pulled from the vision by the sound of screams, only to realize that they were coming from herself. _

"No!!" The hoarse cry ripped from her throat as she was consumed with a feeling of complete and utter helplessness.

She was alone in her bed, sitting with a cold, clear crystal ball in her lap.

Oh, God, no. For the first time she knew, with absolute certainty, that what she saw was no dream.

There would be no sleep for her tonight.

She got out of bed and dressed hurriedly. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she needed to do something. Anything. She was shaking, on the verge of panic. She needed an answer and she needed it immediately.

She ran out of the tower and through the castle, not stopping, not caring if she was seen or caught. The sky was just beginning to glow with the light of pre-dawn as she exited the castle and ran out across the grounds. She needed to run, she needed to do something. She wanted to scream.

Why would she be cursed to see these things? Why? If they were going to happen, and there was nothing she could do about it, what was the purpose? Surely, fate wouldn't be so cruel as to show her this and not give her an opportunity to stop it?

She ran down to the lake, exhausted and breathing heavily. The sunrise was now brightening the sky and the early fall leaves were brightly decorating the landscape. The vision had shown her spring. She had until spring. It was a few months.

The first vision had said that she was not there, that she'd been kept from the battle. Maybe that was the key, that she needed to somehow be there to help them, but from the enormity of the scene, she wasn't sure how one short witch could possibly make a difference in helping all of them.

But the second vision, the second clearly showed her watching the battle from afar. Witnessing each death in gory detail. Both seemed real, both couldn't be true. She was confused by the possible contradiction, the dichotomy.

The run had been good for her. She'd cried herself out along the way, leaving her mind momentarily clear as she hiccuped and stared at the open water of the lake.

She couldn't, wouldn't panic. She needed help. She needed a plan. But most of all, she needed more information. She needed to know that her destiny wasn't absolute. She needed to know for certain that the images she saw could be changed, and if so, she needed to find the plan that would enable her to change it.

Too bad Professor Trelawney wasn't very good at her craft. She supposed that under normal circumstances in the past, the fact that the professor wasn't all that good wouldn't have mattered much, because, she could have always gone to see Professor Dumbledore. But Dumbledore was no longer with them. She looked across the water to his gleaming white crypt, and fought off a feeling of despair.

If only they still had Professor Firenze, the centaur who had taught Divination for a while. He had actually been quite knowledgeable, and it seemed that it was a craft with which centaurs were quite comfortable.

She looked down the path toward the Forbidden Forest. There were centaurs living there.  
She knew they hated wizards, but...

She drew on every ounce of her Gryffindor courage and marched toward the forest.

- -


	4. Chapter 4 Forest Mystery

To say Draco Malfoy didn't care when the word of Ginny Weasley's disappearance spread throughout the school was somewhat of an understatement.

When he'd first heard the news, he had bothered to give it a small amount of thought, but those thoughts were along the line of weighing the facts. He had merely bothered to ascertain whether or not the absence of one rather small Weasley would have any direct impact on him. After he had determined that it would likely not matter in the least, he'd dismissed her fate as inconsequential.

Had he shared his opinion with anyone, he might have been considered unfeeling, but that was far from the truth. If anything, his emotions at that time were simply directed inward. His personal world was in immense turmoil, therefore the fate of an inconsequential student in the school simply did not rate on his scale of priorities, because, basically, his first month at school had been nothing short of total personal hell.

Draco Malfoy, once practically a prince among his peers, had been thrust into the undesirable role as an outcast. Both his family and Slytherin upbringing had left him completely unprepared for his current situation.

He'd once been the bully. He had family money, power and on top of it all, natural good looks. He'd been the center of attention among his peers, and had grown up expecting only a life of prestige and power ahead of him. It had been an easy role to play, and he'd enjoyed it immensely.

It had been so easy back then.

Last year, however, had changed everything.

Now, the others all knew full well that he not only had he been unable to complete his task, but they also were well aware that, while his family still held wealth, their power in Voldemort's realm was no longer viable.

Theodore Nott was the current leader among the Slytherins now, and he enjoyed flaunting his position in front of Draco at every possible opportunity. Draco endured the other boy's taunts with as much sarcasm and attitude as he could muster, but it had been exhausting.

How things had changed.

The only thing keeping him sane was the fact that, with Snape as headmaster, members of the Slytherin House were focusing their efforts on tormenting students from other houses, particularly Gryffindor.

There had been a time when Draco would have gladly joined his housemates, celebrating their superiority by blatantly taunting or harassing others. Now, however, he only found himself to be grateful to the silly Gryffs for being a better target than he.

The irony of the situation would have been funny if it had involved anybody other than himself.

- -

About one week after the Weasley disappeared, the rumours began.

Draco didn't notice them at first. He'd long ago become accustomed to other students whispering behind his back about various things. Typically, he would notice Nott and company, stopping a conversation while he walked past. More often, however, it was a Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff discussing his newfound downfall or his actions of the previous year.

He'd become accustomed the the whispers, but he still paid attention, as changes potentially could indicate something important to his personal well-being, or, preferably, offer him some insight on his current situation. What he'd noticed was that this week, the tone of the gossip-mongers had changed.

What was interesting about the change was that he detected something he hadn't seen yet this year. There was a hint of fear.

He spent the better part of the next week trying to deduce why he might be evoking such a reaction. It took him three undesirable social encounters with his housemates, two instances of awkwardly crouching in doorways and one extended eavesdropping session in the library before he finally found out that he was the primary suspect in the disappearance of Ginny Weasley.

He had mixed feelings about that because the effect of such a rumour was intangible. It all likelihood, if handled incorrectly, could cause him more harm than good.

After some serious contemplation on the matter, he decided that his best course of action was to do nothing. Gossip, after all, could be far more useful than actual fact. In truth, he was innocent, so if that fact came out, he would only laugh at their foolishness.

- -

So it came to pass that Draco Malfoy had turned himself into a virtual recluse.

It killed multiple birds with one stone, so to speak. First, by not being around, he was removing the opportunity for Nott, Carrow and others to target him. Second, it provided a question about his activities.

With no witnesses, a history of working on secret projects for the Dark Lord, and a lovely little rumour that he'd eliminated a fellow student, it was a perfect cocktail for enhancing his reputation within his house. He decided that he didn't need respect if he commanded fear.

For the next several days, he spent most of his free time along the lake, trying to find a comfortable spot for his newfound solitude.

Unfortunately, as he stood and stared out over the water for the umpteenth time that week, he came to the vivid realization that this was more than solitude. He was lonely. Even last year, while he had been somewhat reclusive when working on the Vanishing Cabinets, he still had companionship, albeit in the pathetic form of Crabbe and Goyle. Now, however, he truly had none. It left him feeling bereft.

It also led to him feeling the weight of his responsibilities. It led to him thinking far to much about the desperate situation of his family. It made him feel despondent again.

Unsure of how to handle his feelings, he made an attempt to distract himself and started walking. He wandered along the edge of the Forbidden Forest and, as he peered into the mysterious darkness, curiosity began to take over his idle mind, as he began to mull over some of the more intriguing stories he'd heard about what was in there.

Eventually the mixture of morose feelings and no small amount of boredom made him decide to venture down the path and into the trees.

As he initially stepped into the unfamiliar territory, he entertained the brief thought that his common sense had deserted him, although the thought didn't remain for long. Sadly, he come to the conclusion that he was past caring about such things. He'd long since abandoned hope for the future. He seemed to only exist for his duty to the Dark Lord, and any escape from that trap was welcome.

For now, he wanted to merely see or feel something that was not dictated by his parents, his headmaster, his friends, or, worst of all, Voldemort. It was a moment of rebellion, and his loneliness demanded that he succumb to the desire to pursue a quest into the unknown.

As he wandered into the shelter of the trees, he felt like he was taunting fate. This small act gave him a thrill of freedom that had only been equaled by flying when he was young. He was being disobedient, in whatever small way he could at this time, and he took the time to revel in that fact. Soon enough, his life would be dictated in possibly every way, and he needed this.

He didn't venture far, as caution and the setting sun led him to only explore a few dozen meters before the darkness of the forest canopy warned him to turn back.

He enjoyed his small rebellion so much that he returned to the spot the next day.

His success from the day before, left him wandering slightly further than previously. He found himself looking for whatever magical creatures resided in the forbidden realm, wondering what might dare to confront him. Once again, however, he departed feeling somewhat disappointed, as all he'd encountered were a few pixies at dusk.

On the third day, he decided to venture along a slightly different path, hoping to find a magical creature that might challenge him in some way. He chided himself on having some sort of Gryfindor-ish foolishness. Yet, he followed the well worn path, his confidence growing as his intrusion into the forest remained unchallenged.

He came across a small clearing, only a few dozen yards into the forest canopy. Already, light was limited here, the darkness of the forbidden realm cast the area in a twilight, even during a sunny midday. Yet, he caught sight of something of a lighter color on the floor, and found himself drawn to investigate.

The item that drew his attention could not have been more disappointingly common.

It was a Hogwarts uniform, which had obviously been there for a long time, as ivy had started to overtake it. However, it was the way that the item was laid on the forest floor that was intriguing. The clothing had been carefully laid out, perfectly buttoned and arranged, as if the student inside the clothing had simply disappeared, leaving only the clothing. There was no sign that there had been a struggle. Yet, why a student would leave the items there in this state puzzled him.

He looked more closely at the items. They clearly had belonged to a girl, as a skirt was among them, and a Gryffindor at that, by the color of the tie.

- -

At the very least, he now had a hobby. So far, he'd encountered nothing threatening, and wondered if most of the fear of the forest was only gossip, intended to keep students away. He found his recent forays were akin to an adventure in discovery, and he was reminded of times when he'd been a small child exploring the stream behind his family home.

The memory of his childhood explorations brought him comfort. Once, long ago, he'd thought of himself as a knight on a royal quest, and the mysteries of his backyard forest had held the key to his success. It was a time when he'd envisioned himself to be a hero.

Two days later, when he escaped the confines of the castle again, he realized that the small mystery that he'd encountered in the past week now called to him again. He could feel something intriguingly powerful was the forest, waiting for him. Something he needed to find out about.

So he once again found himself proceeding cautiously down the path, mentally mapping the area in greater detail, now that he had some familiarity with it.

However, this time, as he moved along, he slowly became aware that he was being watched.

Every so often, a flicker of something behind the trees would catch his eye. A less observant person would likely discount the movement as a bird or other normal inhabitant, but he didn't maintain the position of Seeker in Quidditch without good reason. He walked, working to isolate he creature was large, yet it moved almost nothing in its wake. It made no sound, yet it darted swiftly among the trees.

He swallowed nervously, trying to determine if he was in danger from whatever was there. A good part of him was ready to turn back and abandon this foolishness, but another part, perhaps the more desperate part, seemed to say that this was what he was searching for, something that might lead him out of his current messy situation.

He continued forward, following the flashes of movement, while maintaining a firm grip on his wand.

He approached the clearing where the discarded uniform had been. It was no longer there, but what remained in it's place was equally odd. There on the ground, taking the exact shape of the clothing, was an entangled mass of ivy. It almost appeared as if the clothing had been transformed into greenery.

He paused and looked over the clearing trying to determine if he was in any danger. His follower was there, he was certain. He found a comfortable spot near a large tree and settled himself there. Then, using the patience and skill of an experienced Quidditch Seeker, he relaxed his gaze, scanning the area for movement, as he would while looking for the slight glimmer of a Snitch.

It didn't take long before the flicker of movement caught his keen eye off to his left. Yes, the being was definitely there, and it was definitely watching him. He tried to look relaxed, again, careful to not give away the focus of his attention.

It moved again. He quickly glanced over and caught the shape of a human form. Only a glimpse, but it was long enough.

His stalker was definitely female, and wearing surprisingly little.

The little red haired nymph ran back into the forest. Although "running" was not exactly the correct term to define her method of movement. She darted from tree to tree, her feet light and quick and soundless as she swiftly maneuvered through her forest home. Nymphs moved quickly and quietly, often being mistaken for a flash of sunlight on a dewdrop, or a silvery leaf being turned by the wind. They were creatures of light and shadow, playing games with the mere mortals that were wizard and muggle, choosing only to be seen when it suited their purpose.

The speed of her travel gave her a sense of freedom, and she desperately needed to become lost in that. It was one of the few freedoms she could enjoy right now.

Unlike most of her older sisters, she had been given a pre-destined purpose and she'd accepted it willingly. Until now. She had never considered this particular set of circumstances.

As of only a few minutes ago, she'd discovered that the task she'd been given was impossible, and she now doubted that she could ever follow through. But that was the way with enchantment, wasn't it? There was always a catch, always a price to be paid for getting what one so desperately desired.

Her sisters had been thrilled for her. He was so handsome, and had come to find her so quickly. He had even caught her movement out from among the trees. It was an uncommon ability for most mortals, they said, as few had the patience, or the discernment to tell the difference between a nymph and the common movements of the forest.

Yet, she couldn't even look him in the eye. She'd hoped for any wizard except perhaps this one. He was cruel, she knew him to be. He could destroy her far more easily than he would help her in her quest.

So she ran, not knowing exactly where she should go. After all, her world was now the Forbidden Forest. She'd chosen her path and it had taken her away from everything she'd ever known. She had no place else to go, and the thought terrified her.

Finally, without thinking, she was guided to the enchanted pool, where the unicorns liked to come. She'd been here often with the other nymphs, and it had become her favorite spot in her new home. She'd unconsciously found her way here, though, the thought struck her that, no matter where she ran in the forest, she would never have become lost. Without conscious thought, her powers guided her to the one place where most could find peace in the calm blue water.

She arrived at the pool abruptly, in a most un-nymph-like fashion, startling the unicorns that had been gathering there. The silvery creatures moved off, unsure of her odd behavior.

She looked around this place that had brought her so much peace and had given her so much certainty about her choice. Unfortunately, all its enchanted beauty brought her no solace right now. Her choice had been so clear, even only a few days ago. Now, she feared for herself and the future of all that she loved.

She knelt by the pool and sobbed, also odd behavior for a carefree nymph.

It was the elder nymph, Elora, who found her by the edge of the water, as the young nymph's tears dropped into the water, causing the mirrored surface to ripple with sadness.

The little nymph looked at her wizened sister. Elora was as old as the forest itself, she'd watched the wizarding world evolve from its very beginnings, yet, one would never guess by looking at her. Elora had raven black hair, and piercing blue eyes that reflected the placidness of the forest enchanted pool, yet she had the features and innocent appearance of a fourteen year old girl.

"Young one, why do you cry?" The elder asked walking over to the young one and gathering her into a motherly hug. The younger held onto her sister and sobbed.

"Oh Elora, this isn't supposed to happen this way! He's not the one who can help me. You are wrong. I can't face him again. I just can't. "

"My dear child. You came to us for help, and the way was made clear."

The younger one pulled back, confused, as tears continued to stream down her cheeks. Her elder saw the girl's hesitation, her lack of understanding. She continued, "He came looking for you. There is no question, that he sought us out. He even caught a glimpse of Reya. No common mortal can accomplish such a thing easily."

"I am quite certain he was not looking for me. I would have no value to someone like him," the young one replied, her voice hoarse from her tears

"He does not know yet that it is you that he seeks. He only knows that he is searching. You are so naive, my young one. Often the winds know our destinies better than we know ourselves. You must learn to trust what is right."

"He won't help me. He would never help me."

"Child, the winds have spoken. There is no reward that comes without effort. It is your challenge, and you must overcome if you truly wish to gain that which you seek."

"But what is my challenge? How can he help?"

"You must learn in order to grow. Each of us has such tasks put before us and they are rarely easy, and rarely do we learn from those who are too like ourselves."

She nodded, and Elora held her until she was calm again. She took a deep breath looking into the placid water and trying to make sense of the elder's words.

Elora cupped her cheek, and smiled. "Have faith little one. Your heart will tell you what is right."

"I still don't understand."

"You will with time. I will leave you now with your thoughts." Elora only smiled and drifted back off into the canopy of the forest.

This wasn't right. It simply wasn't. She'd seen the blond ones' hatred of his own kind, his cruelty and antagonism. He simply could not be the one destined to help her. What was most frustrating was that the other inhabitants of the forest were not very forthcoming in the specifics of exactly what type of help she actually needed.

Her frustration grew and replaced her despair. The pool once again changed color as enchanted hues of blue and green played across its surface. The rainbow colors it showed when she was happy were  
hidden from her for now, and she missed them.

The nymphs of the forest were so very ancient, and they spoke in riddles and games. They seldom gave direct answers. They laughed and played in the forest, delighting in each day as it was. She envied them.

And now, she was one of them. She was an infant by comparison, less than an infant. They were centuries older than she. Every time she asked her questions, they laughed with amusement, and told her to be patient. They told her all would be clear in time.

There were only two things that seemed clear, first was that they'd promised to help, and second, that she was too young to understand the means of their ways. She wanted to understand, but time was her enemy. She didn't have centuries to try to understand. The fate of the world that she knew was in peril now.

Ginny Weasley now feared that agreeing to be transformed into a wood nymph would become her life's greatest mistake.

He walked back to the castle with no small amount of purpose. For the first time in a very long time, he found that actually wanted to go back and study, though his topic of interest had nothing to do with his school work. He was certain he'd seen a girl in that forest, possibly two, wearing little more than a strand of ivy for clothing, and his seventeen year old hormones had taken a firm grasp of the situation.

At least he was showing an interest in something other than the oncoming doom of the known wizarding world. The forest was dark, certainly, but it wasn't evil, at least not in the way of evil he'd been dealing with recently.

He strode through the castle with a bit more purpose than he had in recent weeks. Of course, to his supreme dismay, he caught the attention of one of his classmates.

Vincent Crabbe stood in the hallway to the dungeons, as if lying in wait just for him.

"Malfoy, we've got trouble."

"You've got trouble, Crabbe. I've got things to do."

"My trouble is your trouble, if you know what I mean."

He gave the dim-witted brute a look of disdain, as he released a bored sigh. "No, I have no idea what you mean."

"It's up to us to keep this school under control, and we've got the wrong people poking around in our business here."

He went on to babble about whatever little pro-Death Eater meetings they had been holding had been disrupted in some way. The twit had no idea how little he cared.

"It's not my problem, Crabbe."

"It should be. Just because you're not in charge anymore doesn't mean that you shouldn't be there supporting us."

"I couldn't care less about anything that you are involved with."

"That's not what the Dark Lord wants, and you know it. You should be helping. "

"Helping with what? Learning to torture firsties in detention? That's your department, Crabbe. I've got better things to do."

"Do you have some new 'assignment'?", the stupid bloke speculated. Good, Draco thought. It appeared that the rumours were still working in his favor. If they thought he was up to another secret assignment, then they'd leave him alone. He decided to play along. If the idiot wanted to come up with an alibi for him, he wasn't going to argue.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. It's none of your business, regardless," Draco replied.

"I want in on it."

"Not this time," Draco responded, and turned back to his room without another glance at his former accomplice. Let them think what they would of him, as long as he left him alone.

He returned to his room and pulled out some texts for his new 'assignment', quickly banning all thoughts of his encounter with Crabbe from his mind, replacing his thoughts with the memory of that sweet little scantily clad vision he'd seen in the forest.

He began by going through some of his first and second year texts on magical creatures. It was a subject in which he'd never paid much attention as he'd been brought up to see most creatures as servants or tools. To actually study details of the things didn't really interest him, as his incident with the hippogriff had proven.

As he scanned through the images, he found very little that was either interesting or useful, and he closed the book in disgust.

He closed his eyes and his mind started to wander to happier thoughts of when he was young, bringing to mind a fictional creature that fit the description fairly well. It was one that most boys had at least some infatuation with, if only in their dreams. The sightings of such things were so rare that it was thought that the creatures didn't actually exist. Yet, there were numerous unconfirmed stories that claimed they were real.

As most men grew older, they became quite convinced that the wood nymph was nothing more than a myth created for the sole purpose of men making their wives jealous.

- - -


	5. Chapter 5 Cat and Mouse

Chapter 5 – Cat and Mouse

For the next two days, Draco spent every spare moment in the library trying to do more research about the elusive wood nymph. The information was sparse, at best. Eventually, he was able to glean some facts while looking into faeries and pixies, but nothing was concrete. Even the books he'd found in the restricted section were disappointing.

The creatures seemed to be more legend than fact.

Ultimately, he had to revert to old issues of the Quibbler for anything useful. Moving to a quiet section of the library, to avoid being seen actually reading the questionable periodical, he settled in to read.

What seemed to be a common trait of wood nymphs was their nomad-like tendency. They did not wish to be seen, and often, if they were seen, it was only if they willed it to be so. Even a glimpse of a nymph was considered to be a particularly skilled feat.

He sat back feeling somewhat pleased with himself. He was sure he'd seen two of them. One had distinct red hair, and the other had been brunette, though he wasn't sure if her hair had a touch of purple in its hue.

They looked decidedly different, which was why he was certain there was more than one. Though, he seemed to notice the body type more than their facial features. Of course, their clothing led to him looking in that area more closely than their faces, anyway.

Both fit the descriptions listed in the books quite accurately. Clad in only greenery from the forest and darting rather quickly from the shelter of the trees, they used their magic to blend in with beams of sunlight and shadow, to hide themselves from view. They moved quickly, like a snitch, and he wondered if the small golden prize used in Quidditch had been inspired by the prize he'd seen in the forest.

Most of all, the legends said, if one managed to catch a nymph, the reward was quite worth the effort.

Of course, the simplistic articles did not say what kind of prize that would be. The creatures were rumored to have access to unspeakably ancient and powerful magic, and they were said to be beautiful beyond imagination. Unfortunately, their actual use to the wizard was left unclear.

As with most ancient magic, the means of making it useful were methods that likely defied logic.

He wondered why the beings, so known for their secrecy, had chosen to show themselves to him. Not once, but twice. If anything, he now had a puzzle, and a very lovely puzzle it was.

After hours of pondering he finally fell asleep, and it was a terrible, fitful sleep, interrupted frequently by dreams of beautiful nymphs with flowing red hair.

x - x

Unfortunately, his opportunity to sleep in late the next morning, was rudely interrupted by an owl summoning him to the headmaster's office. Needless to say, it put him in a rather foul mood.

He arrived in Professor Snape's office, still suffering from random thoughts of scantily clad nymphs, having no idea why the Headmaster would want to see him. His arrival in the office threw him back to his dismal reality.

Snape had a visitor, and by the garish red hair in the chair before the headmaster's desk, it was a Weasley.

"Come have a seat, Mr. Malfoy," the headmaster motioned, without rising. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but our guest here insists on speaking with you."

Instinct forced Draco to glare at the intruder without further delay. Apparently, the rumors conjured by his classmates hadn't taken long to find their way out of the school. He laughed inwardly at the thought. In this instance, he was completely innocent and found the situation almost amusing.

Draco entered the office and took the proffered seat, trying to decide how rude he wanted to be to the Weasley, especially considering that said Weasley's presence completely disrupted his happy reminiscing of last night's dreams of scantily clad nymphs. He settled on an expression of disdainful annoyance for the time being.

"Don't get too comfortable Malfoy. I expect this will be quick," the Weasley said.

"I suppose then, that I'm grateful for small favors," Draco responded, sneering.

"I'll skip the courtesies, then," he retorted. "I want to know if you had anything to do with my sister's disappearance."

He'd been the punching bag among his fellow students for the past month, and he was quite sick of it. Letting a lowly Weasley speak to him in such a manner seemed to cause something inside of him to snap. He found himself to be angry. The last thing he needed was a Weasley to cause him more complications. Therefore, it was almost automatic when he found himself responding viciously, "Lost your sister, have you?"

"You know she's been missing for almost two weeks. Don't act snide with me," the Weasley responded.

Draco noticed a scar on the man's face that he found to be distasteful, so he took the opportunity to examine his finger nails, in order to emphasize the importance this conversation had on his life.

"I was vaguely aware of it, but I have more important things to be concerned with," Draco responded. How stupid they were, he thought, that they would assume that he was the cause, based on nothing more than idle school gossip.

"Snape won't be able to protect you if you've done anything to her," the Weasley growled.

Draco shook his head. "I know nothing about her. Maybe she simply found you too boorish and decided to leave on her own," he snapped back. Internally he cringed at his lack of control, but decided that tact be damned. Taunting Weasleys was just part of who he was. He couldn't help himself.

The glare of utter hatred he received from the Weasley was most satisfactory.

"Enough!" Snape interrupted. "Mr. Weasley, if you have some sort of evidence to back up your claim that Mr. Malfoy has some knowledge in this matter, then I suggest you produce it. I allowed you here to ask Draco if he had any information which might help, not to dispense unwarranted accusations and threats."

Draco hid the urge to flinch at the menace in the Weasley's eyes.

Draco studied the man carefully. Weasley's face had once been handsome, but was now scarred on one side. He wasn't tall, but his build was muscular. He kept his hair long, tied neatly in back, and wore an earring in one ear indicating that he was not one who entirely respected propriety. Aside from the hair, the man bore little resemblance to Ron, making him far more interesting in Draco's view. In quick conclusion, Draco determined that the man was likely rebellious, and therefore unpredictable.

At this point, Draco realized that he'd made a significant tactical error. His experience with the Weasley brothers thus far had led him to underestimate this one. The others all were predictable and basically harmless in their own way. This one had a strength and confidence that signaled far more depth than the others. Taunting him had been, at best, a huge mistake.

The Weasley sat back down, obviously furious, but holding his temper.

Draco had enough enemies on both sides of this war, he had to be somewhat tactful. He leaned forward, looking the Weasley directly in the eye. "I had nothing to do with her, Weasley. For what it's worth, I haven't even bothered to glance at her this year."

The Weasley took a deep breath, seeming to gage whether or not to believe him. "Do you know who might have done this?" he asked in a forced calm tone.

Draco shook his head. "As I said, Weasley, I haven't given her a second thought, and I doubt anyone here knows either, or they wouldn't be giving me all the credit."

The Weasley stared hatefully at him, but with that, the interview was over.

He later discovered in a rare moment of socialization with his housemates that the Weasley's first name was Bill, and that the scar on his face was a direct result of Draco's failed assignment last spring. There was no question in Draco's mind that if there was a Weasley that he should fear, that was the one. He momentarily questioned his lapse of temper during their meeting.

x - x

The good news was that the false gossip about his mysterious mission and the elimination of Ginny Weasley had allowed him to once again gain some sort of advantage again among his housemates. At the very least, Theodore Nott had backed off his relentless attempts to usurp Draco's position. While his former friends remained cautious, they no longer were openly avoiding his company.

It was an interesting position to play. In fact, it was the situation he had been trained for his entire life. However, now that he was completely immersed in the game, he found he hated it. The challenge of maintaining position was far less fun when one didn't hold all the proverbial cards.

While the gossip had helped temporarily in his standing among his housemates, it didn't seem to matter in the least with Amycus Carrow.

He had more than his share of opinions about Professor Carrow, all of which, he kept to himself.

In short, the man repulsed him. He was rude, ill-tempered and completely insufferable. He was a supreme example of what one would call 'gutter trash'. The man had delusions of aristocracy, yet held no hint of manners or even simple intellect. His only redeeming qualities, at the present time, were his ambition, coupled with his blind devotion to the Dark Lord. They were qualities that Draco had long found to be quite irritating.

Draco recalled how he'd often ridiculed Ron Weasley about his social status, and realized that the Weasleys were far above this 'professor'. Yes, the Weasleys were poor and blood traitors, but at least they had some among them who were clever, and, at the very least, could speak coherent English without cursing every third word.

This Carrow was hardly the sort that he'd expected to see given positions of favor when he had been taught about the glory of the Dark Lord's rule.

His contempt of the creature that was called the Dark Lord had only grown further as he came to know Professor Carrow.

In the beginning, he'd tolerated the professor, even attempted to humor him at first. After all, it was in Draco's best interest to appease those who seemed to be in the Dark Lord's favor. But, as the weeks of the fall term dragged on, Draco quickly discovered that pleasing the man was an impossible task. Carrow, like Nott, found Draco's current situation amusing. He delighted in watching a rich and powerful family slowly fall, and was eager to assist in any way possible. Carrow was a shark who smelled blood, and was moving in to feast upon the kill.

Draco unconsciously sneered at the mere thought of the scum as he approached the dungeons for his assigned detention duty. As a prefect, he was obligated to assist in such matters, although he'd tried to avoid them as much as possible. Crabbe and Goyle enjoyed such duties, but Draco did not. More and more, he was seeing himself as someday being at the receiving end of such ministrations, should it happen to suit the whim of the Dark Lord.

Once upon a time, he would have smiled at the thought of seeing a Gryffindor suffer under the the cruel ministrations of a Death Eater, but Draco had never envisioned himself as being the one actually inflicting such curses. He felt it was beneath him. As he'd learned from his encounter with Dumbledore last spring, he had no stomach for it. He mentally cursed himself for his weakness, then again cursed the Dark Lord for even expecting such behavior from his followers.

Carrow looked just a bit too eager to see him as he entered the Dark Arts' dungeon classroom.

"Greetings, Mr. Malfoy. So glad that you decided to join us," the slimy bastard sarcastically greeted him. Draco marveled that the man actually was capable of using even that much courtesy and curtly nodded to acknowledge the greeting, although he refused to give the man the satisfaction of responding with any clear sign of respect.

Draco looked about the classroom at the three students who were sitting awaiting their detention. Two were mere firsties, who both appeared to be positively terrified. The third was none other than Neville Longbottom, who sat in front of the others, as if to protect them. Draco rolled his eyes in disdain.

"I'm a bit concerned about your attitude, Mr. Malfoy. I am concerned that you do not take your duties as a prefect quite seriously enough," Carrow said in a rather greasy and condescending tone.

"I can't imagine why you'd think that, Professor," he responded, refusing to use the term 'Sir', as he normally would when addressing a teacher.

"Oh, I'm quite observant of such things, and I do want to see you succeed, you know."

"_Of course you do, you pathetic wretch. Legilimens this," _Draco thought, wishing desperately that he could respond aloud.

"I would hate to report back to your parents that you aren't excelling in my class."

"_You'd like nothing better, and you know that regardless of how well I do you intend to report my failings to the Dark Lord, you ambitious piece of filth."_

"So, I'm giving you an easy assignment this evening..."

"_Oh, please, do tell me," _Draco thought to himself, while forcing his expression toward Carrow to remain carefully neutral.

"I need you to practice some of your spells on these three."

"Anything in particular, Professor?" he asked, trying not to sneer when he said the man's title.

"Oh nothing serious. Some binding spells and the like."

As Carrow directed him, he quickly forced each student in turn to stand, be bound, immobilized, levitated. This wasn't too terrible, although the fear he saw in the younger students was disturbing. As the time progressed, he almost thought that he would get through the hour without incident.

Then, he noticed something familiar. The students were each suspended, immobile, above their desks, just like Charity Burbage had been before Draco had watched the Dark Lord's snake kill and devour her. He suppressed a shudder at the memory. He'd literally fallen on the floor in shock at the sight of her death early in the summer. The vision before him was eerily similar.

Carrow's recreation of the image had obviously been deliberate, since he'd also been a witness of Burbage's death. He leaned forward, whispering nastily into Draco's ear, "Now, you're not going to fall over are you? I wouldn't want to scare you, after all."

It took all of Draco's willpower to show nothing. He sneered at the remark, but remained silent.

"Good then. Now, wake them up and Crucio them."

He really would have preferred not to do that. Longbottom might not be so difficult to work on, but he couldn't even fathom practicing such a curse on an eleven year-old firstie.

Fortunately, Headmaster Snape decided to interrupt at that time.

"Amycus, a word, if you don't mind?"

"Of course, Headmaster," he replied and started to walk toward the door.

Snape noted the elevated, and frozen students, then added, "Oh and you might as well let them go for the evening. This will take a while."

Carrow's face fell in obvious disappointment. He nodded curtly at Draco, indicating that he release the prisoners and left the room.

Longbottom glared at him as he released them from the spells, surprising Draco with his ferocity. With that look, Draco started to realize that he hadn't been the only one to have changed this year. He watched as Longbottom protectively put his arms around the shoulders of the younger students and started to leave the room. The youngsters literally crying in fear.

The sight affected him, and Draco felt something inside snap into place.

"Longbottom, wait a moment. I'd like a word."

The taller boy continued to walk, and Draco found himself utter something unusual.

"Please."

Neville stopped and looked back. He whispered to the children to wait outside, turning back to the former Slytherin bully.

Unsure of how to begin, Draco got straight to the point, and, for the first time, said something to the boy that wasn't a scathing insult. "If he **ever** orders me to Crucio you again, make sure that you scream your bloody head off regardless of what happens when the spell hits you. Tell your friends too. "

Neville nodded, completely confused by the remark, and continued on his way.

Later, Draco realized that his action might have been considered to be compassion, but he knew better. He was rebelling against the Dark Lord, and more specifically, Amycus Carrow.

- x - x

The following week, Neville got to experience first hand why Malfoy had said those words, when Draco was once again ordered to Crucio the victims of detention. For all the action and malice that Draco seemed to exude as he cast the spell, Neville only felt a minor discomfort when it actually hit him. Nevertheless, he followed the instruction and screamed until his voice was hoarse.

Neville returned to Gryffindor tower, remembering Harry's account of his experience with the curse in the Minstry of Magic three years ago. During the incident, Bellatrix Lestrange had told Harry after he'd failed to cast the curse that "you have to mean it". Neville couldn't wait to relay what had happened to his fellow DA members, but he was quite certain that nobody would believe him.


	6. Chapter 6 Capturing the Nymph

Chapter 6 – Capturing the Nymph

-

Much to her dismay, the boy she hated returned to the clearing a few days later, bringing with him a satchel of books, that she could only assume was his schoolwork.

His demeanor was guarded, and he cast a number of protective charms around the area before dropping his books and settling down. He frequently glanced around warily to check his surroundings, settled in a comfortable spot and became focused on his work.

The afternoon was pleasantly warm for mid-October, and he spent about an hour, quietly reading and occasionally making notes. She hung back in the trees, watching him. She almost felt like she was intruding, but she had little else to do. Her task was to learn from him, so she practiced her patience and watched.

After the second hour passed, the sun was sinking lower in the sky and the air became brisk with the fall chill. He cast another warming charm, but with the light now fading, he decided to pack up his work and move back to the castle. She watched him still, noticing that he was so very different from the spoiled boy she'd known in the past. This was just a boy looking for solitude and quiet to do his work, and watching him had not been unpleasant. Of course, she realized, he probably had no idea that she was even there.

Until he picked up his satchel and before moving out of the clearing, he turned, looked directly at her, and smiled. Her shocked look made his grin only widen.

He'd known she was there the whole time.

Obviously, one of the things she needed to "learn" was how to blend in better so she wouldn't be seen so easily.

-

The game continued for the next two days. The boy would enter the forest, settle in the clearing and watch for her. She would do her best to hide, thinking that she was successful at the task, only to have him look directly at her and smile. She would then watch him go then allow herself to throw a small temper tantrum that he'd won yet again.

On the third day, things became a bit more interesting.

For the first time, he finally managed to tear his eyes away from her body long enough to get a good look at her face.

At first, all he could think of was that she was quite pretty. Then, after second and third glances, he started to realize that she looked vaguely familiar. Finally, after the fourth glimpse, his suspicions had been confirmed.

"Weasley?"

She froze, realizing that she'd been completely found out, and silently cursed herself yet again for not hiding more effectively. Recovering from the shock as quickly as she felt was possible, she turned to dart away.

His reaction time, however, was that of a Seeker, and her hesitation was just long enough to give him the change to jump forward and grab her wrist. She tried to shriek but when she opened her mouth, no sound came forth.

She stared momentarily at her captured wrist, gave it an experimental tug, and found that he wasn't going to let her go easily. Worse, he reached to grab her other wrist.

She kicked him in the shin.

"Ouch! You little..."

His grip loosened just enough for her to pull free, and she once again turned to run. Her freedom was short-lived, however, as he immediately wrapped his arm around her waist, capturing her once again. The movement caught her off balance and as she fell, her momentum pulled him down on top of her.

Noticing that he now had the girl firmly in place beneath him, he decided to try to get his answer. "Weasley, what the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

She continued to struggle, but his weight on top of her was too much. More than anything she didn't like feeling trapped by him, and more than anything else in the world, she wanted him off of her. She decided to try her newfound powers and with everything in her being, she pushed him away.

The last thing he remembered was flying through the air backwards before everything went dark.

Her first thought, after she got up, brushed herself off, and saw the limp form lying on the other end of the clearing was: _Oh God, I've killed him_.

A cold feeling of dread crept over her as she fearfully stepped across the clearing toward the crumbled heap of clothing and boy. Here she was, only a nymph for two weeks, and she had to go and murder her very first project.

She began nibbling on her fingers in nervous fear. What was Elora going to do to her when she found out? She was supposed to be learning from this idiot. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

She arrived at the body, and slowly turned him over, fearing the worst.

By some miracle, he was still breathing.

She breathed a sigh of relief and began checking him over for signs of major injury. Fortunately, there was none, although he was unconscious. Pulling his cloak free and resting his head on it as a pillow, she reached one arm underneath his shoulders to support him, and with the other she began to slap his cheek lightly, hoping that it might waken him.

After a few panicked moments, he groaned and started to come around.

He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a beautiful girl leaning over him, looking quite worried, and wearing a very, very small bikini type outfit. Then he realized it was Weasley.

"Oh God," he groaned. "This is either a dream, or I'm in hell."

She dropped him abruptly.

"Ugh! What the hell, Weasley, are you trying to kill me?"

The abashed look on her face was almost funny. He groaned again, as he tried to sit up, eliciting yet another worried look from the girl. Apparently, whatever had happened to him was her fault and, in the typical Gryffindor style, she was feeling guilty. He decided to play it up for all it was worth, making quite a show of groaning and checking himself for injury as he slowly got up.

She watched him carefully, but said nothing.

Confused by her silence, he prodded her further. "Well?"

Still nothing. She opened her mouth a few times, crossed her arms in front of herself and turned away in a huff.

That wouldn't do at all. This had started with him trying to ask her a simple question and he intended to find out the answer. He scrambled up and grabbed her arm, causing her to stop and turn back to face him.

"What is this, a Weasley with nothing to say? That's a first."

She looked to be frustrated and furious but still said nothing. Then she motioned to her neck making some sort of frantic motion and opening and closing her mouth.

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, highly amused. Seeing her so frustrated was rather cute. Of course it helped that she looked rather appealing in the tiny outfit.

Her sour look appeared to be an affirmative.

He barked a harsh laugh, "Oh, a speechless Weasley. This is absolutely priceless!"

The fury in her eyes at his remark was simply lovely.

"Well, it's no wonder you got laryngitis," he continued. "Running around in the woods dressed like that..." He motioned toward her body, an appreciative leer in his eyes. "Not that I've minded noticing."

She slapped him across the cheek. Hard.

"Ouch! Dammit, Weasley, that's the third time you've assaulted me! At some point, it's going to be reasonable for me to strike back, gentleman or not."

She turned her back on him and started to march away again.

Not quite ready to let this go, he followed her, "Weasley! Weasley, stop!"

She stopped, but refused to turn. She tapped her bare foot in impatience, arms still crossed in front of her.

The motion caused her bum to wiggle rather enticingly under the little ivy skirt she wore, and Draco promptly decided that the girl was likely going to be the death of him. After he recovered from that thought, he realized that this was the longest almost normal conversation he'd had with anyone in a while.

"C'mon Weasley, when we get back to the school, I'm sure Pomfrey will fix that right up," he said. Once again reaching for her hand to pull her in the direction of the school.

She jerked her hand away, and darted back a few feet, out of range of his reach. To him, the movement looked lightening fast, almost as if she'd disappeared then reappeared six feet away.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, looking back and forth from the spot she'd been to where she now stood. "How did you do that?"

She stared at him, as if she was staring at an idiot, then motioned to her mouth, then her neck making a cutting motion.

Oh yeah. She couldn't speak. Duh.

"Are you coming back to the school or not?" he asked, finally losing his patience.

She shook her head in a "no" and once again started to march away in a huff.

"Hey! You can't stay here! That's crazy."

She kept walking.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, he shouted after her, "Fine! I'll just tell your brother Bill that you're here and he can drag your sorry arse back. I've been more than nice."

That stopped her.

More than stopping she suddenly turned hurried back to him, panicked. She grabbed his arm, stopping him from turning to leave. She looked up at him with a pleading look on her face, shaking her head "no" emphatically.

The action left him more than a bit surprised.

"You can't ask me not to say anything. He thinks I've kidnapped you or killed you. I have enough enemies and I don't need to add to the list right now."

She continued to cling to his arm, begging him not to say anything.

He "hmmph'd" in impatience. The one sided conversation was getting a bit annoying. "Then explain. How did you blast me across the clearing and how did you do that...thing? And while we're at it, why the hell are you here in the first place, anyway?"

She thought for a moment, then made a writing motion. He complied by pulling a parchment and quill from his satchel.

She took the proffered items and settled herself on the root of a nearby tree. He followed her, sitting next to her as she started to scribble something on the parchment. Once finished, she looked at him impatiently and handed over the parchment, as if it explained everything.

Snapping the paper from her, he read it. "I can't go back. Ever. I don't belong there anymore," she wrote.

It was a good thing he wanted answers so very badly or he wouldn't be bothering with her. His first assumption was that she was running away from the harsh conditions in the school. He was disappointed, thinking she had more spunk than that. He looked annoyed at her and responded, "Great. I don't belong there either, but you're supposed to be the big, brave Gryffindor and stick it out with the rest of us."

Shaking her head "no", she wrote again. "I'm not even a witch anymore. They changed me. I can't live inside places like that."

"You look the same to me, Weasley," he responded.

"I'm a nymph," she wrote, handing the parchment back to him with a "so there" kind of expression.

He read the words and his first thought was that it was ludicrous and the girl had likely lost her pretty little mind recently. He stared at her for a long moment, then blinked. "You're kidding."

His first reaction was annoyance, that perhaps she was simply pulling the wool over him and that he'd wasted quite a bit of time in this forest for no good reason. He was about ready to throw her over his shoulder and carry her stubborn arse back.

She shook her head "no" and looked down, somewhat sadly.

"Hmmm."

Thinking for a long moment, he started to think things through. She definitely had shown some unusual power, and he thought he'd seen another female with her the first time he came. He found himself contemplating that she might be telling him the truth.

"Alright, let's assume you aren't making this up. Why are you here?"

She scribbled her answer. "They said they could help me keep my family from being killed."

"And they just gave you this amazing power? No strings attached? Sounds a bit far-fetched."

Again shaking her head, she scribbled, "They won't let me use the power against anyone out there. I can't leave the forest. They tell me I'm supposed to learn something first."

"Sounded too good to be true," he muttered. Then he thought for a moment and remembered something. "So, why have you been watching me? Not enough men out here for you, Weasley?"

If she could emit any sound, he was certain she would have snarled at him.

Snatching the parchment back, she scribbled impatiently and messily. "I'm supposed to be learning from you, you pompous git. You're my assignment."

With that he couldn't stop himself from an outright fit of laughter.

-

He had laughed at her. Laughed. At her! As if the situation wasn't difficult enough. She'd tried to reason with the git and it got her nothing.

She hadn't waited for the laughter to subside, and while his eyes were closed in merriment, she'd darted off into the trees. Far into the trees.

When he finally managed to compose himself, he found himself alone.

Her appeal to Elora had gotten her nowhere, however. Worse, for the first time, Elora had apparently reached the limit of her almost endless patience with the girl. Ginny now had lost her autonomy in her interactions with the forest interloper. Callista had now been assigned to assist her.

She sat by the enchanted pool, letting her toe trace patterns in the surface of the water. She'd calmed down over the last two days, mostly because he had not returned in that time. She was becoming hopeful that Elora had been mistaken.

The sound of someone entering the area pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to see a small herd of centaurs enter the glade. Recognizing the leader, she began to feel somewhat shy.

"My fire sprite," the leader said as he walked toward her.

"Hello, Tenere," she responded quietly. She was still unsure of how to respond to the centaur, after their original meeting. He was, after all, one of the reasons that she was in this particular mess.

- - -

Tenere had been the one who had found her and brought her here that fateful day only three weeks ago. He was large, even for a centaur, his coat and hair the same fiery red as her own. She often wondered if it had been that simple feature that had happened to catch his fancy and likely saved her life.

The centaurs had been far from friendly when she'd encountered them. Not that she hadn't expected that. What she had been unprepared for was the extent of their anger toward all things related to wizards.

On that day, the day she'd walked with determination into the forest, she'd wandered the unfamiliar paths for what seemed like hours, only to become hopelessly lost. Ultimately, she had been forced to abandon her quest and had been attempting to find her way out without getting herself killed. That was when she'd accidentally crossed the centaur hunting party.

They'd greeted her with open hostility, their hatred and disgust for all witches and wizards plainly visible. But she'd still tried her best to talk to them openly, explaining that she had actually been searching them out. They'd laughed. Some began to suggest that they make an example of her to discourage others of her kind.

But Tenere, standing in the lead, had stopped them. His malicious laughter had turned to amusement at her innocent explanation.

"You came looking for us...to ask us to help you?" he'd asked, not quite believing her story.

She'd stood tall, trying not to appear as frightened as she felt. "I know centaurs have more knowledge and skill in Divination than anyone I've ever encountered. I...I'm not asking as a favor. I mean, I would certainly be willing to try to repay you." She said, stammering.

Tenere looked down at her. "Wizard money means nothing to us."

"But, that's why I'm here to ask. Certainly, there's some way for us to work something out!"

He crossed his arms across his chest, and his expression turned into something appreciative as he looked her over. "And what would a pretty thing such as yourself have to offer?"

Her stubborn look turned to confusion. She hadn't thought that far. Centaurs were magical creatures, skilled in Divination, but they didn't command spells in the way witches and wizards did.

"I'm not sure. I don't know what you need." She looked down at her wand. "I might be able to conjure or configure something for you. Or, maybe I can do something with simple healing or a potion. I'm not that advanced yet..."

Her honest look of confusion at his lewd hint made him laugh again, cutting off her words. He leaned down, looking directly into her eyes.

"So, tell me pretty sprite, why is this so important to you? You do realize that you are far from safe here. Trespassing by your kind in our domain is strictly forbidden, and we have made it known that it will not be tolerated."

Here eyes opened wide with just a bit of fear. They weren't interested in barter, and they were likely far from willing to help her. She hadn't considered this. Even knowing that there was animosity between centaurs and wizards, her only experience with them had been her former teacher, Firenze. She hadn't realized that the hostility ran so very deep.

"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I...I didn't intend to offend anyone." She looked back into the big centaur's eyes, her expression showing only open honesty and innocence. "I needed help to understand what I saw in my visions. I need to know if I'm helpless to save my family. I know that centaurs are the best experts in that area, I didn't think it would be terrible to simply ask."

The centaur looked at her, somewhat dumbfounded. She bowed her head in shame over her stupid decision to search them out.

"I'm so very sorry about trespassing," she continued, unaware of the centaur's dumbfounded stare. "I understand if you don't want to help me because of the way our idiot Ministry has treated you. Unfortunately," her voice dropped to a quiet mumble in further embarrassment, leaning closer to the red-headed leader so that only he would hear. "I'm a bit lost. If you'd be so kind as to point the way out of here. I'll be on my way and I promise never to bother you again."

She looked back up, awaiting verdict on her fate. She reminded the centaur of a naughty child, which, in a way, she was. To her surprise, after a momentary look of surprise at her statement, he barked out a hearty laugh.

"So, not all of your kind are complete fools."

She blinked in confusion. First they didn't want to barter, and now they seemed to find it funny that she was asking direction so she could leave. They were making fun of her.

"This isn't funny!" she stated indignantly. "I understand you don't want me here, and I'm quite willing to leave if you will just point the way!"

The centaur watched her expressions change, and seemed even more amused. "At the very least, little one, you at least have the sense to speak plainly. It is rare to see of your kind. You are as fiery as your coloring, aren't you, little Sprite."

She said nothing, only stared at him in the same way she would glare at her brothers when they teased her. The centaur did not seem to be intimidated, but he did give a sigh.

"Very well," he said. "Explain this vision to me."

She was a bit unsure, but the centaur had stopped his condescending laughter and simply looked at her expectantly. She took a deep breath, and started recounting her strange dreams, and then told him about her experience with the crystal ball. He listened intently, not interrupting. Finally as she finished with the vision the previous night and her subsequent desperate search into the forest, he stared at her for a long moment.

"Come with me. I cannot help you, but I know the ones who can."

She didn't notice when the other centaurs had left, but as she moved to follow him she noticed that they were alone. The walk seemed long and her progress slow over the uneven forest paths. Her hooved guide walking slowly and surprisingly patiently.

Finally, they reached a clearing. "We will wait here," he said.

She looked around the clearing, seeing nothing unusual. Briefly, she wondered if perhaps he was only bringing her to some sort of trap. Deciding that there wasn't much she could do if it was, she sat and watched the centaur casually pace around the area.

It didn't take long for her curiosity to persuade her to break the silence between them.

"By the way, my name is Ginny," she said.

"I am Tenere, little Sprite," he responded.

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

He laughed again, a deep rough sound. "Because you are full of fire. It amuses me."

"Thank you, I suppose." He laughed again, a good humoured laugh, and she found herself feeling more at ease. She did have to admit, now that she had time to think about it, that her audacity was rather ridiculous. No wonder he'd found her funny.

Shortly after, she met Elora for the first time and learned about the world of the enchanted beings, which included the wood nymphs. That was when she'd finally gotten the answer she'd hoped for, that the future she'd seen was not yet permanently cast, and her visions had been warnings of what would be if she remained passive.

"But what can I do?" she asked desperately.

Elora had smiled. "You need to learn, grow, and from that you will gain the power that you require."

That's when Elora had given her the choice. They would help her to gain the knowledge she would need that would save her family, but at the price of being transformed into one of the enchanted wood nymphs. The price for gaining that power was to forfeit her old life entirely.

At the time, it had seemed an obvious choice, if it would save everyone she loved.

That was only a few weeks ago, and already she was questioning the wisdom of that choice.

- - -

The boy returned two days later. Settling himself in his usual spot. She didn't go anywhere near him, staying far enough away to be completely unnoticed. Callista eventually joined her to keep her company, and the two watched quietly. Two hours later, he was looking just a bit disappointed as he began to pack up his things.

"I know you're out there somewhere. You won't stay away forever, you know," he called out to the trees in general.

No response. After a moment of looking around, he shouted again, "I'll be back tomorrow!"

He'd just about finished packing and had started to move off when a motion in the trees caught his attention. Ginny remained hidden far away saying nothing.

Initially, he was unguarded, assuming that the movement he detected was the girl. By the time he recognized that it wasn't, the giant spider was almost upon him. Surprised, he dropped his sachel and drew his wand, quickly stunning the beast. Unfortunately, the thing was not alone.

She and Callista watched as the spiders advanced on him. He didn't know it yet, but they were working to surround him. If they let it be, he'd surely be devoured by the ravenous creatures.

"You should help him," Callista suggested.

"He shouldn't be here at all. Maybe letting him get a good scare will convince him that he really has no business in here and he'll leave me alone."

"That's not very kind of you," her friend said.

"It's difficult to be kind to the likes of him. He's not known for exactly being kind to anyone."

"I haven't seen him unkind. He seems to be more introspective and intellectual. He is a bit distant, but I wouldn't call him unkind."

"You're just saying that because you fancy him. Trust me, I've seen it,"Ginny replied knowingly.

"Elora says that he is a good choice for you. You need him to learn and grow," the blond nymph insisted.

"I am quite sure that he is not someone I can learn anything from."

"Well, we'll never find out if he gets killed out there. Do you intend to help him or should I go talk to Elora about finding you someone else?"

She sighed. "I suppose I'll help him. It might humble him a bit to know that he needs help from the likes of me."

"Good. I'll leave you then to deal with him."

"Ugh," she groused as she moved out from her hiding place and called the wind.

- -

He stood frozen in place as the creature moved steadily toward him. There was no doubt that it considered him to be prey, and he reached for his wand, to stun it. Then he saw how many of the other  
creatures were right behind it.

He backed up against the nearest obstacle, and raised his wand, hoping that he might at least be able to kill enough to create a distraction and run.

A strong breeze came up just at that moment, blowing leaves and pine needles through the clearing, effectively blocking his aim from most of the spindly legged monsters. He found himself angry that the wind was disrupting his only chance at defense, when he realized that the same wind, and it's accompanying debris, was also effectively blocking the view of him from the predators.

Shielding his eyes from the wind, he watched as the creatures moved off, losing interest in the clearing altogether. As soon as the last had moved off, the wind died down, and the area was just as calm and quiet as when he'd arrived.

He looked around the clearing, and there she was, just off to the right, looking rather pleased with herself.

"You did that, didn't you?"

She smiled smugly as she skipped over toward him, nodding quite enthusiastically. Apparently, she found it, ahem, fun.

"Well you took your sweet time about it."

The look she gave him said quite a bit... First, that he was lucky that she bothered to save him at all, which was very Weasley of her and quite annoying. And second, she motioned that it was his own fault being rather deep in a forest that was clearly labeled "Forbidden" for a rather large number of dangerous reasons.

"It is NOT my own fault that I'm out here. I'm here to find out what is going on with you, since your brother seems intent on proving that I am the prime reason for your disappearance." The foolish girl  
had pulled him into this by making her transformation known to him. What did she expect, that he just leave it be?

"Those things are just flat ugly," he redirected, pointing in the direction the spiders had moved. "Is there any chance that they might be coming back?"

She nodded, then thought for a moment, and with a wave of her hand, a number of vines grew up among the trees, creating a fence of sorts, effectively blocking the clearing from the darker portion of the forest.

"Show off," he said as she grinned, looking as superior as a Weasley possibly could. He had to admit to himself that he admired her attitude.

- - -


	7. Chapter 7 Getting Acquainted

The next day he returned as promised. Ginny, with a small amount of urging from Callista, came out of the shelter of the trees to join him. He acknowledged her in greeting, but didn't speak. Instead, he settled in with his books, just as he would have done if she were in hiding.

She watched him openly for a bit, then grew bored. To amuse herself, she started playing with the leaves of grass, weaving them into a little hat for herself. Satisfied with her project, she looked over again, noting that he was still ignoring her. She lay down on the grass, and stared up at the patch of sky that was visible through the trees, counting fluffy clouds as they wandered past.

She was completely oblivious of the fact that the boy had not been ignoring her in the least. Instead, he was currently completely captivated by the sight of her lying on her back, her head toward him, giving him an incredible view of her cleavage.

He gave a heavy sigh. The girl was going to drive him completely insane. He needed to start some conversation, or else.

"So, you claim to be a nymph, and that there are supposedly more around here somewhere, yet I only see you here. What make me think I should believe, you?"

She sat up and turned to face him, looking annoyed. He expected that. Gryffindors were obscenely honest. Accusing her of lying had definitely caught her attention. He liked that she was that predictable.

"No, I don't see why I should believe you," he continued to mildly taunt her. He wanted some answers, after all, and this seemed a good way to get them. "You found some fancy powers. Great. You use them to torment me, then you have the nerve to ask me not to tell anyone, including your family, who are worried sick about you, by the way."

She sighed heavily and seemed to think for a moment. Then, looking around the forest, she made a motion of calling others. Then motioned toward the trees.

And he saw them.

A dark, raven haired girl with piercing blue eyes smiled at him impishly. She walked toward Ginny and took her hand, smiling at her in a motherly way, which looked odd, since the girl appeared younger than Ginny.

There were others, one with short hair that shown purple in the sunlight, one whose hair was silky blonde, long enough to reach down her back in a golden curtain, and finally one with a pixie face, with green hair in short curls. They all grinned and waved at him, laughing at his obvious confusion and surprise.

"You're all nymphs?"

"We are," the raven haired one replied.

"And you can speak," he prodded.

"Of course we can," she responded.

"Why can't Ginny?"

"She is not yet complete in her magic," she said. "Her interaction between the world of the forest and the world of men is limited."

Her words were confusing, and her youth made the way she spoke seem out of place. He felt the need to correct her wording. "World of men? For your information, I'm a wizard. It's Muggles that lack the magic."

She smiled indulgently at him. "From our point of view, there is no difference. You are all the same. There is a great chasm between you and the universe of the enchanted beings. The young one has tried to cross, but her journey is still incomplete."

He felt slightly affronted at being grouped with Muggles, but if anything, he was a quick study. If these beings saw little difference between wizards and Muggles, they must be very, very advanced. "So, she really has changed."

"She is transformed. It is a step in the journey of knowledge," the dark haired one explained.

"What kind of knowledge?" he asked, hoping that maybe there was something he could use, something that would help him and his family out of the mess that they'd found themselves in.

"It is not for me to say. She seeks knowledge, you seek peace. You were both drawn here to find it. It is something that cannot be explained in words. It is for you to find within yourselves."

Oh great, he thought to himself. Another one that talks like that idiot Dumbledore. Why don't these so-called 'wise' beings ever just state what they mean in simple words? Why does it always have to be some cryptic 'find out for yourself' kind of message? He really, really hated that.

She began to move off, and he made a movement to follow her but something unseen stopped him.

He turned to the red head, who was the only one remaining. "Why?" he asked. "Why won't she just tell me what I need to know?"

Ginny's shoulders slumped in defeat, and she shook her head, pointing to herself in a "me too" kind of way.

"She won't tell you either?"

She miserably shook her head.

"Well," he said, looking at her with a renewed determination. "It looks like we both have a puzzle to solve then, don't we?"

She looked at him incredulously. She had been hoping he'd eventually go away. Now, he seemed to be even more interested in her.

- - -

The good weather held for the next few days. He returned each afternoon after his classes had ended and would stay until the sunlight began to fade.

Each time, she would work to find a location that would allow her to blend in seamlessly with the forest background. And each time, he would give no indication that he knew exactly where she was until the moment that he departed the clearing. His skill at finding her was uncanny.

Of course, she worked with the others to try to improve, knowing that she wasn't as experienced as the older nymphs at deflecting the light around her. It was a subtle art of using light and shadow and color, and she enjoyed the challenge of improving this skill. She wondered if it would help her in her quest.

It bothered her to no end, yet, she found herself looking forward to playing the game with him each afternoon.

After a few days of staying off on the side, watching him quietly work, she realized that she found that his presence to be rather comforting. She had plenty of time to think while she watched him often letting her mind wander to home, school, and people she knew.

She tried to let her thoughts be free, as Elora had taught her, to allow herself to be more of a part of the forest. It was a rather peaceful time for her.

She spent time contemplating her subject, as he basically ignored her while he worked. He had changed. Her sister nymphs had told her so, and she willed herself to be open to the what he was now, instead of what she remembered, which wasn't easy at first.

What she noticed was that his edginess and his eagerness to be cruel were gone.

She found herself wondering what had happened to bring it about. He was looking for peace, Elora had said, and she found herself curious about why that brought him here, to this forest.

She realized after a few days that she actually didn't mind his company. Even though they didn't speak, he was there, and he was a link to her former life. He was no longer an enemy, at least to her, but just a person, albeit an annoying one who took joy in playing this hide-and-seek game with her.

The end of the week brought rain and although she hoped he might venture out anyway, he didn't come. She found that she missed him.

The rain lasted two days, and she found herself looking forward to the next sunny day. But the clear November days now brought a bitter chill. For the third day, he didn't arrive and she found it difficult to hide her disappointment.

Elora watched her, and she was fully aware that the elder nymph noticed her reactions. Yet, her mentor said nothing about the matter. She finally had to ask.

"Elora, can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything, you know that. What I can answer is, of course, another matter."

"I know, but you told me I can learn from him. Can't you give me the slightest hint on what that might be? I mean, he's not even coming back, and even when he's here, we don't say anything to each other. He doesn't even acknowledge that I'm there, except to tease me when he leaves, to let me know that I haven't hidden well enough."

"Much can be said without words, child."

"But, we're not saying _anything_."

"Yet you've learned a great deal. Tell me about him."

"He's quiet. Very patient. Very observant - he can see me even though I've used every trick you taught me about using the light. He enjoys teasing me about that, and it's almost a game we play where I practice hiding and he enjoys finding me without even giving away that he's looking for me. I've tried to catch him and I don't know how he does it."

She paused, catching herself rambling about how that little matter irked her so much, then continued, "He's meticulous about his school work..."

Elora stopped her, "So, what have you learned about him?"

Ginny paused. She knew she had come to the realization that she'd noticed he'd changed. She'd been trying to avoid actually accepting it by speaking of it aloud.

"He's different, more mature than the person I thought I knew," Ginny finally admitted.

"Have you learned anything about yourself?"

"Not really. Just that I need to become more adept at hiding," she said, once again trying to keep the conversation to a topic that she was more comfortable with.

"To most, I'm sure your skills are more than adequate. "

"That's probably why he's a good seeker in Quidditch."

"What else have you found within yourself?"

Elora was good, she had to admit. The elder nymph knew her quite well, just as Ginny knew that she needed to confide in someone about her feelings. She sighed, "I miss my old life quite a bit. So much so, that I even like having him around because he was a part of that world, even if it was a part I wasn't particularly fond of."

Elora looked to her to continue.

"I don't know, Elora. I just don't know."

Elora nodded in understanding, giving the youngster a warm hug before moving off to weave her magic elsewhere. The other nymphs were not limited to the forest and had other duties to attend. So much of what they did was still a mystery to Ginny, as she wondered how much longer she would have to continue her slow learning process.

The next day, she continued to explore the forest, learning more about the cycle of life in the wood as it settled into winter slumber. She wove her dress for the day out of bright orange and yellow. Soon even the late-turning trees would be barren, and she took the opportunity to enjoy the last bits of seasonal color.

The weather remained cool and brisk causing Ginny to expect that he would not come today either, so much so that she was surprised when she sensed that he'd entered the forest. She darted to the clearing, partly annoyed with herself that she was happy that he'd come.

He had already settled down and started concentrating on his work when she arrived. He didn't seem to notice her, as usual, and she settled into her newest location, certain that she'd finally evaded him. Her triumphant feeling was short-lived.

After a few minutes, he turned, looked directly at her and said, "You're late."

If she could have said anything, it would have been to the effect of, "well you haven't been here at all for three days..." but there was no need.

"I couldn't very well have come in the rain, and yesterday I was stuck in the Dark Arts classroom, apparently because I need some remedial work in that area."

He shivered, and took out his wand to cast another warming charm. She realized that she didn't ever seem to need such things, despite her rather scandalous attire. She watched him pull his cloak more closely around himself, and she realized that as the weather continued to get colder, she would likely see him less and less. With him being her only link back to her old life, she made a decision.

She stepped out from her hiding place, and he finally looked up and took full notice of her. "That outfit is particularly stunning, not that I haven't thoroughly enjoyed seeing you in the others."

She hadn't really thought about what she was wearing, as it was standard attire among her kind. She'd become so accustomed to being dressed this way that her mode of dress hadn't really crossed her mind since the first few days after her transformation.

Now, he was openly looking at her, and she felt supremely self-conscious.

Lowering her gaze, she tried to appear nonchalant and was quite sure that she was failing miserably. So, she sat down a little ways away from him and tried to curl up, hiding as much of her exposed tummy as possible.

"No need to get shy all of a sudden on my account," he said, barely glancing up from his book. "After all, it's not like I haven't been noticing for days. I have to admit, that it sure beats any scenery I might get in the library."

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to pour as much hatred into the gaze as she possibly could.

His eyes were full of laughter at her response, so he jabbed at her even further, "I mean, if I'd realized you looked like that under those baggy school robes, I probably would have treated you differently."

She started to get up, to leave, but he jumped up surprisingly quickly to catch her wrist before she darted. "Don't go. Please. I was only joking."

She reluctantly sat back down, and he released her wrist.

"Sorry," he said, and reached to pick up his book again.

They were quiet for several minutes. He, sitting reading, and she, watching him, occasionally looking around or examining one of his texts.

After an hour or so, he stopped, started rubbing his chilled hands together, and reached for his wand to cast another warming charm. Before he did, he looked over at her, and fully realized that she was clad in a tiny outfit that consisted of bright fall foliage, and she didn't give even the slightest indication that the chilly air bothered her.

After a brief aside of vowing that at some point he would find out how the little outfit was bound together, his curiosity to ask got the best of him.

"Do you mind if I ask if you are cold at all?" He asked, indicating her mostly bare legs and bare feet.

She looked down at herself, looked over at him, and shook her head negatively.

"Oh," was all he said and moved to cast another warming charm on himself.

She reached over and stopped him.

"What?" he asked, curious.

She looked reluctant, gave a deep sigh and seemed to resign herself to her next action. Then, she leaned close to him and touched her left hand to the side of his face, caressing his cheek.

Her closeness was a welcome change in itself, but it was the tenderness of the touch surprised him. It seemed an odd thing for her to do, since she only seemed to tolerate him there at all. The action  
distracted him so much that it took him several moments to realize the results of her action. He was no longer cold. In fact, his heavy cloak no longer seemed necessary at all.

He looked at her. "You did that too?"

She nodded.

"That is amazing. Can you do something like that if it's raining too, to keep you dry?"

She nodded again.

"I like it. Any chance you could find some way for me to bottle that up and take that charm with me?"

She shook her head negatively.

"Too bad. There would be a fortune to be made with that."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled at him.

"Good, you didn't get mad at me for that. You're making progress."

She could let the fortune remark slide, but that last remark was a tad condescending. She gave him an appropriately annoyed look.

He just laughed and turned back to his studies.

- -

He arrived in the forest, once again wondering if she would show up, or play another of her games. He was starting to wonder what kept bringing him back to her. After all, she couldn't speak to him and he doubted that she would share any of her secrets even if she could. She still, quite obviously, only tolerated his presence.

Yet, he felt compelled to continue to return to the dark forest. Somehow, simply being there brought him a bit of respite from his daily life. The puzzle of the girl continued to intrigue him, that and the fact that she was far from unpleasing to look at.

He had news for her this trip, which made him hope that maybe she might willing to share more information with him in some way.

With an almost cheerful mood, he wandered down the now familiar path.

Familiarity can be a very bad thing, he soon realized, as he suddenly became very aware of the fact that he'd let his guard down.

It was the sound in the underbrush that snapped him back from his reverie, by then it was far too late to do anything but acknowledge the confrontation and deal with the consequences.

"We do not deal kindly with trespassers," the voice said, while still hidden from him.

"I don't deal kindly with cowards, since you are afraid to show yourself, I can only assume that is what you are," he responded, less than bravely.

Tenere moved out of the shadows and confronted the blond boy who had trespassed into the centaurs' territory. Wizards knew better than to enter this realm, for the most part. Interlopers were to be dealt with swiftly and harshly, just as his own kind was judged if they entered the wizards' world.

Yet, Tenere held his bow, though still aptly aimed at the boy's heart. This was the one his nymph had favored. He could not pass judgment without her consent.

"What is your purpose here?," Tenere asked harshly, willing his arm to accidentally loose the arrow he held in restraint. It failed to yield, and with that, he knew that his heart was lost to the nymph he'd brought to the Enchanted.

"I came only to meet with Ginny. I have news for her," the boy said, with a courage that he didn't feel.

"If she wants to meet with you, she would be here," Tenere retorted. His jealously of the blond barely hidden.

Then, as if to answer his own statement, the nymph appeared and the centaur's demeanor immediately softened. He could only hope that his fellow centaurs failed to notice his weakness.

She gently laid a hand on his bow arm and he lowered the weapon without a second thought.

"My lady," he stated formally. "Your wish is my command."

"Thank you, Tenere. I appreciate your vigilance," she said kindly, smiling up at him.

Draco watched the exchange with a mixture of annoyance and gratitude. He had little chance of taking on a dozen armed centaurs, but the affection the leader showed toward _hi_s nymph was far from desirable.

He took note of their obvious commonalities, most notably, the same fire-colored hair. The lead centaur was clearly enamored with the girl, and Draco felt compelled to put a stop to that immediately, just as soon as Ginny had handled the situation.

"You know that I only wish to secure the safety of this forest for all," he said, quite insincerely, from Draco's vantage point.

"I know, Tenere, and thank you," she responded, taking his hand and looking at him far too affectionately. "He is no threat, you know. He only comes to see me."

"I would prefer that it was not the case," Tenere responded, glancing over irritably at the blond boy.

"I once thought the same, my friend, but he is my only link to my old life," she said sadly. "Whether I desire it or not, Elora tells me that I need him."

"Then I concede to Elora's wisdom," the centaur acknowledged, looking over with hatred at the interloping wizard. "If your wishes change, you will inform me, my Sprite?"

"Of course," she said, smiling fondly at her centaur friend.

Draco could not hear her words. While she was mute to him, apparently, her power of speech was not limited in the same way to the centaurs, as he watched her carry on a conversation with the leader. He was not privy to hearing the words, but he watched her carefully, listening to the centaur's response with growing irritation.

With one last scathing look, the centaur motioned to his band and moved away from the area, leaving the pretty nymph alone with him.

She appeared to be less than enthusiastic about his visit today, and he fully intended to change that.

"I have news for you," he said with as much cheerfulness as he could muster. The centaurs' threat to his life had still left him slightly unnerved, although he tried to hide it from her glowering stare.

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, making her breasts rise up out of her bikini style top. He tried desperately not to stare.

"Yes, news about your family, if you care to hear," he said, trying his best to sound casual.

This seemed to capture her attention. Her stance immediately changed, although he could sense a small amount of apprehension.

"It's good news," he added.

With that, her expression immediately softened as she looked hopefully at him. He wondered if he could possibly find a way that she might actually want to spend time with him without this kind of bribery. He wanted to know more about why she had been altered to being a nymph. He wanted to know more about any special powers they had and, more import.

"Your attitude changes quickly when I have something you know you want," he stated teasingly, watching her temper flare. Her expression went from hopeful to demanding. At this moment, he was happy she couldn't speak, or he was certain she'd be throwing hexes as fast as possible, or, at the very least be spewing a steady stream of curses.

He debated about dragging out the suspense, but decided against it. Apparently, being on the bad side of her pet centaur made her a bit cranky.

"I overheard a conversation with a few of your Gryff friends. I guess your brother Bill and his wife are expecting a child."

She gave a little bounce of joy and came over to hug him, which he accepted but didn't return, as the action was unfamiliar to him. He mentally noted that he would have to be prepared for a proper response, preferably involving a bit more body contact, next time.

- - -

The morning after his encounter, Draco found himself enjoying breakfast for the first time in a while. Pansy had temporarily abandoned her post at Nott's side to accompany him at the breakfast table.

"So, Draco, darling," she started the conversation. "Tell me how have your last few weeks been?"

"You seem to be well aware that it's been going well enough, Pans," he replied calmly.

"I've missed you so much," she returned returned with her best flirtatious look. It didn't affect him in the least. Pansy no longer held his interest, but she was still almost a friend, so he played along.

"Of course you have. That's why you've been falling all over Nott in an attempt to keep me company for the last few weeks."

She pouted, quickly glancing over at Nott, who looked none too pleased at the moment. Pansy was using him to make Nott jealous and Draco returned her gesture with a smirk. It was like old times with Pansy playing her little games. He took a glance over at Nott, noting that his rival had a distinct look of disgust on his face as he pretended not to notice Pansy talking to him.

"I have too!" she insisted, still pouting. "Why, after all, would I have started that lovely little rumour otherwise?"

He looked at her in mild surprise. So he had Pansy to thank for the story that somehow he'd been responsible for the missing Weasley and his subsequent social reprieve. Things were starting to look up for him. His smirk turned into a devilish smile toward her, and her pout turned into a self-satisfied grin.

Further conversation was interrupted, however, by arrival of the morning owl post.

He'd received a letter from his mother.

In the past, post from his mother had been frequent, always short and formal, and usually accompanied by a variety of expensive sweets. This year, however, had been quite the opposite.

He'd grown to remember those notes in past years fondly, although at the time, he'd not fully appreciated them. Those daily notes had merely shown how much his mother cared. He understood that now.

Unfortunately this year, her notes were something he almost dreaded. Not that he didn't love his mother, but her letters had taken on a different tone. He could almost feel a desperation and underlying fear in her words.

Today's letter had offered no comfort. It was much like the others. Worse, actually.

The letter spoke of Draco's duty to his family and how he needed to prepare for his future. Reading between the lines, he gathered that the Dark Lord was once again developing plans for him. The idea reawakened the fear that he'd known for most of the last year. His duty was far from done. His hands shook as he carefully folded the parchment and tucked it into his robes.

Pansy had moved back to her position beside Nott, playing up his jealousy, no doubt. He gave her a discreet nod and left the table, deciding to contemplate his situation by taking a long walk.

While Pansy's little bit of gossip had been a stroke of brilliance, it was clear that the benefits would only be temporary. In truth, he'd had no part in whatever had happened to the Weasley girl. It was only a matter of time before the actual facts came to light. If he was a good Slytherin, he would be able to make the most of this advantage while it was available. The question was how.

He needed more than idle gossip to help him. As he recognized earlier, it was a only temporary measure. If he was going to maintain a reputation that he was powerful in some way, he would have to find something palpable. Something unique.

He looked over at Snape who was deep in conversation with another teacher. His mentor might protect him for the duration of the school year, but after that, he would be at the mercy of the Dark Lord.

He was well and truly trapped. He glanced over to the head table, and caught Carrow's cold glare. No amount of gossip was going to help him for very long.


	8. Chapter 8 Trust

The cold middle of November brought little change in his daily life. He continued to mechanically go through classes, avoid social situations when at all possible, and head outdoors to fly or stay near the lake to wait for her if he wanted companionship.

The fact that he was a major topic of gossip among his housemates was of little interest to him. Blaise and Pansy remained cordial, as it seemed that the gossip had done its work. The fact that he frequently disappeared only strengthened the idea that he was working on some sort of dark project.

The downside of that was that he remained under suspicion from students of other houses, most notably Gryffindor. Their reaction to him was mixed, however, and he was almost amused by it. While they looked at him with suspicion, they also each looked at him with profound gratitude when he was overseeing their detention. True to his word, he continued to go soft on each and every one of them during any of the more painful spells he was ordered to cast.

Unfortunately, their gratitude did not stop them from keeping him under close observation. There were still no other suspects in the youngest Weasley's disappearance. He suspected that Bill Weasley was behind some of it, as he overheard some of the hushed whispers of one of those that followed him around the castle.

What concerned him was that someone might take note of his now frequent forays to the area near the Forbidden Forest and possibly find out that he was regularly seeing the person who had been missing for the last three months.

In a way, he welcomed the challenge, as it gave him sufficient distraction from his usual worries. While annoying, the problem was immediate and manageable. It gave him a distraction from the worst of his worries.

However, this morning had been a bad day. His tail all morning had been Longbottom himself. It had spoiled his morning walk completely knowing that he wasn't alone. They were so very blatant about their following him that it was starting to get on his nerves.

He had finally escaped from everyone after his last class and was hoping to escape the castle, his winter cloak already with him. He was debating about going back to collect his Quidditch broom when he was stopped by non other than his Head of House, Amycus Carrow.

Draco barely suppressed an expression of disdain as he acknowledged the man. It seemed Carrow's interest in him had failed to wane over the months, despite Draco's efforts to remain as distant and uninteresting as possible.

He tried to move on, but Carrow grabbed his arm and started speaking.

"I have some news, Mr. Malfoy."

He did his best to hide looking at Carrow as if he was nothing more than dirt on his shoe, but Draco considered it to be a herculean effort. He said nothing, but moved his arm out of the offensive grasp.

Unfortunately, Carrow seemed intent on relaying his news and Draco was forced to remain as the scum continued to speak. "The Dark Lord is considering, on my recommendation of course, reallocating your family's wealth to someone who, shall we say, has the proper backbone to wield it appropriately."

Draco did his best to look bored and disinterested. Threats were common in the world of business and power. He wasn't going to give this beast the satisfaction of thinking his threat held any influence with him.

"Don't look so over confident young man," Carrow continued. "I have it on good authority that you might be marrying into my family soon after you finish with this petty school. I understand arranged marriages are not uncommon for people of your, ahem, stature."

"My father would never allow such a thing, Professor," he spat the man's inappropriate title. "I'm not sure what game you are playing at, but I assure you, that the Malfoy name is not going to be tarnished."

"Your 'father', and you for that matter, are nothing more than pawns who will be played as is decided by the Dark Lord, and by those of us that the Dark Lord favors. You are only allowed to live because it suits our purposes."

Draco felt his blood boiling with fury but he tried to show nothing but calm irritation with this creature.

"I beg your pardon?" Despite the calm question, he unfortunately knew exactly what Carrow meant. He'd seen how his father had lost the will to stand up for himself as the Dark Lord used every opportunity to ridicule his family. Draco could not back down to this man, for the sake of his father at the very least. He stood tall.

"Come now, Malfoy. Your privileged lives have let you become soft. All we have to do is suggest that the safety of your dear mother is in doubt, and your father willingly agrees to whatever we wish. It is quite pathetic, actually."

Carrow sneered at him and Draco tried his best to appear unaffected by the taunts, even though, internally, he was seething.

Carrow's voice dropped as he continued his taunt. "The Dark Lord has judged your father unworthy, and you as well. Your family's influence means nothing, except by aligning with those of us who are capable of handling the responsibility. My sister is only a few years your senior. It would be in your best interest to be nice to me, as we are likely to be," he smiled evilly during the dramatic pause, "family."

"I assure you, Professor, that you are greatly mistaken, and even if you were not, I would find a way to spend every last penny of my family's assets rather than allow it to fall to the likes of you."

Carrow gave an insincere look of regret as he responded, "Pity. My sister seems to think that you are quite the handsome lad. She might choose to let you live, anyway."

He knew of the bloke's sister. He'd easily end his family line, without regret, rather than be related to any of them. He sneered at the lowly excuse of a man and strode away with every ounce of dignity he still possessed.

His escape from the castle giving the appearance of being composed and dignified to the average observer. Internally, however, he was anything but calm.

He paused long enough to verify that he wasn't being followed by one of his usual shadows, and stalked away as quickly as possible toward the Quidditch pitch, appearing to the world that he was simply going to practice. As soon as he was certain he was clear of any unwelcome observers, he broke into a headlong run toward the lake, needing to get away from the confines of everything.

As he ran, he allowed himself to feel the anger that had been welling up inside him. He was angry at Carrow, certainly, since the uncouth, filthy piece of trash had the audacity to speak to him as if he had some sort of authority.

But it went beyond that. He was angry at Voldemort for repaying years of his father's loyalty with threats and humiliation, leaving him in an unusual and extremely unwelcome position of feeling vulnerable. He was angry at his father, for placing his loyalty in a creature such as Voldemort, for blindly following the Dark Lord in a quest for more power and prestige, as if their family name wasn't good enough. He was angry with his father for being weak, and foolish and incapable of reversing this situation, for placing his mother in danger, as well as destroying any future Draco could have.

He felt betrayed by his father, the man he'd looked up to and admired his entire life. In that moment, he hated the man, and he hated himself for his mutinous feelings.

Finally, he realized that he was angry at his life and what had become of it. The reality of the obligations that came with his family name were crushing him like a vise. Not that he would openly admit it, but Carrow's comments were far too close to a reality that he feared beyond anything else.

Running from the castle was only a temporary reprieve, he knew. But he would take whatever he could get.

He reached the lake and slumped by the shore, spent more from emotion than the run and stared dully at the open expanse of water before him, as if it could provide a means of refuge.

The lake hadn't yet frozen over yet, but the ground was frozen and the trees were barren, prepared for the oncoming winter. It was a harsh landscape, and he couldn't help but relate to how it reflected his personal outlook on his future.

Eventually he became bored with sitting and burying himself in his misery. He summoned up some small flat stones and began tossing them into the frigid waters. The repetitive action was soothing, as it allowed him to direct his anger into each toss, making the stone bounce along. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there when suddenly he became acutely aware that he was no longer alone.

He didn't see or hear anyone, but he knew instinctively who it was. "You might as well come out. I know you're there," he said to the empty landscape.

She was by his side in a moment, silent and frustratingly calm, as always. For all his dislike of her and her family, he was grateful for her company. She didn't seem to judge him, but that was the way of the enchanted, he thought, they don't judge. How odd that of all the beings he knew, she had become the only one who had earned his trust.

He continued to toss the stones, ignoring her for the time, and she waited. As usual, she didn't speak, and he was glad of it. Something about not having someone constantly asking what was wrong was a benefit. He was sick to death of hearing unwanted gestures of concern, or useless advice from people who pretended to know or care about what he was going through. None of them could possibly fathom his situation. She was simply there, and that was enough.

He finally turned to her, pulling his cloak closer as the icy breeze began to pick up. She was dressed in her usual manner, forest greenery covering her in an abbreviated bikini top and short skirt, barefoot, and this time with holly berries decorating her hair.

"Aren't you ever the slightest bit cold dressed like that?" he mused.

She smiled and shook her head, walking over toward him. She touched his cheek and the warmth surrounded him as well. Once again, he was no longer the slightest bit cold.

He looked at her, and found himself longing for the same escape she'd chosen, but stubbornly pushed the feelings aside. She hadn't yet pulled away and looked up at him questioningly, once again touching his cheek. Unconsciously, he reached up to cover her hand as it rested on his face, and realized that she'd brushed away streaks of tears. He hadn't even realized that he'd been crying.

"It must be the cold, making my eyes water," he said, trying to redirect her obvious concern.

She shook her head negatively and gave him the look that said she didn't believe him. She was right, of course, not that it was worth arguing the point, since she wouldn't say anything in return anyway. She stayed close, though, which was unusual. It was unlike her to give more than a brief touch, before moving to an appropriate distance, probably fearful that he'd try to grab her again. This time, though, her hand stayed on his cheek, and her look of concern now had a question to it.

"I don't want to talk about it."

She nodded, but took his hand, and started to move back to the edge of the woods. He willingly followed, realizing that she felt they were too far out in the open for her, and she wanted to be near the safety of the trees. When she sat down near a tree on the water's edge, she gently tugged on his hand. He took the hint and sat down beside her.

Both stared out over the water for a long while. It was obvious that something was weighing heavily on him, but she continued to just stay with him, saying nothing.

He marveled at how much she could emote without sound. He wanted to talk to someone who could understand. Nymphs supposedly held the wisdom of the world, and he wondered if she had such an ability, since he was well aware that she was only a mere witch until very recently. Even if she did have such knowledge, he wasn't sure she could help much as she had no way to communicate that to him.

Having decided that it was worth telling her something of his current dilemma, he was unsure about how to start the conversation. He sighed heavily, and allowed his guard to fall. When he finally turned to her, he was certain that all the misery he felt showed in his expression.

He was about to speak, but found he didn't need to. She looked at him in understanding as she reached her arms around him in a gentle embrace. Surprised, he found himself embracing her in return as she guided his head to rest on her shoulder. As he rested in the comfort of her arms, he let out a weary sigh.

He marveled at how such a simple act could be so comforting. For the first time, he felt he wasn't alone in his situation. She stroked his hair soothingly, and he reached his arms around her. She was probably his only friend at this time, and he internally smiled at the irony that she couldn't speak a word.

He shifted, pulling away slightly, so that he could look at her more directly.

"I suppose you want to know what's wrong."

She gave a look that said "Well yeah" and shrugged, ending the look with a small smile.

"It's my father."

He felt her tense, though it was clear to him that she was making every effort to continue to look at him with concern, waiting for him to continue.

"I know you don't like him. Sometimes I don't either."

She nodded, showing gratitude that he acknowledged her discomfort with the topic.

"He's not the same man that you remember. He's barely a shell of what he used to be."

Curious, she gave a questioning look.

"You don't know how things have changed." She shook her head negatively.

He paused. This was unbelievably difficult to say. "You remember how it used to be with my family." Another pause as she looked uncertain about what he meant. He continued, "I mean, we used to be powerful, influential. I used to look at my father as the greatest person in the wizarding world. He talked about how the Dark Lord would rise and make the world perfect for us, make my family even greater than we already were, and I believed him."

He could tell she was desperately trying to hold back a look of disgust, but made no motion to stop his explanation.

"I know you disagree. It doesn't matter what we were. My father was wrong, he was blinded by ambition, and I was a fool to have believed him so readily."

She looked surprised. He smirked at her, since her reaction was exactly what he expected.

"My father was a fool," he continued. "He served the Dark Lord willingly, did everything asked of him, out of his own ambition and a quest for power. As a result my family has been humiliated. We're on the verge of losing everything, including our wealth. We've already lost the respect of most of the Dark Lord's followers, and, of course, the remains of the Ministry. We'll be lucky to survive the next few years, and even if we do, I expect my life will not resemble much of what I grew up with."

Her surprise at his admission was evident. He doubted that anyone outside of the Dark Lord's inner circle truly understood how far his family had fallen from its former lofty pedestal. His gaze turned pensive, as he again turned to look out over the cold water.

"Whatever we do survive with will be at whatever whim the Dark Lord chooses. My father can't stop him from completely controlling us in every way, short of using an Imperious. It shows his power, that the Dark Lord can destroy anyone, even someone as prestigious and prominent as my father."

She said nothing, allowing him to say what he needed.

"I don't want to be manipulated. I don't want to be used like that. And I'm ashamed to say that I almost wish your bloody Potter succeeds in whatever he's doing to beat that twisted bastard."

He turned back to look at her, seeing her look change from surprise to disbelief.

"Hey, I still hate him, Potter that is. Don't get me wrong, but my chances of a salvaging a normal life are a lot better if your side wins, and I hate myself for even thinking that, because I can't do a damn thing to help."

Her look said that he was wrong.

"I'm no hero, Ginny. I never claimed to be. My family has plenty of enemies, from business, politics, you name it. If I resist the Dark Lord, there are a half dozen Death Eaters who would be more than happy to make it a personal mission to eliminate me and claim my inheritance – they may do it anyway, except the Dark Lord doesn't wish it yet."

She stared at him, willing him to explain further, as if what he'd said wasn't clear enough.

He sighed. Dumb Gryffindor. He was going to have to put it in small words for her to understand. He wasn't looking at her anymore. He stared out over the lake, his gaze empty.

"The other Death Eaters can smell the blood in the air, and I am being confronted with that fact even here at school. I can't stand it and I don't know what to do."

He paused, not sure about continuing with stating his worst fears, but the girl once again moved to put her arms around him, offering only comfort. He couldn't understand how she could.

"So, I'm stuck in a way that I can't even begin to explain. I'll be obligated to take the Dark Mark and live my life exactly as I'm ordered to, and it's quite certain that almost everything that will be asked of me will be distasteful at best. If, by some miracle, Potter wins, then I'll be branded a criminal and sent to a different kind of prison. My life is basically over."

He pulled away from her, turning toward the lake again. His head and shoulders slumped forward, showing his feeling of utter defeat.

She placed a hand gently on his shoulder, turning him toward her once again. He didn't resist. She looked into his eyes, which were dull with hopelessness. The sorrow in her gaze spoke volumes, that she wished she could help him. Of course, there was nothing she could do, but she had listened, and he was grateful.

"Thanks for listening. I think I've talked more in the last few minutes than I have in months." He started to shift, so he could leave to return back to his self-imposed hell of a life.

She put her hand on his arm, stopping him, and it was his turn to look at her questioningly. He briefly wished she would speak, but before he could complete the thought, she reached her hand to cup the back of his head as she leaned in and kissed him.

He was surprised to say the least. Not that the action was unwelcome, simply unexpected. He'd been attracted to her from the moment he'd first seen her scantily clad form in the clearing, not knowing who she was. She was now transformed into a magical creature that was rumoured to lure men away with their beauty and power.

He wondered if she was pulling him into some sort of trap, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He wanted to leave his current life, and if it was a trap, at least it was one into which he was willing to go.

Her kiss was sweet, gentle and innocent. It was not at all like the siren passion he'd expected from a nymph. It was the kiss of someone who cared about him.

When she pulled away, he found himself almost disappointed. Almost. She cared and he found that it meant a great deal to him. He still found himself wanting more, even as she pulled away with a shy smile and started to move back into the woods.

He wondered if he could escape into the woods with her, as he began his slow trek back to the castle and the prison that was now his life.

- - -

She darted back through the trees, eventually finding Elora near the enchanted pool. Somehow, she wasn't surprised that the elder was expecting her; the woman knew far too much about everything. Still Ginny desperately needed to talk to someone.

Elora smiled at the girl's hurried entrance, "Is everything alright, child?"

"No! No, everything is so far from alright that I don't know what to do anymore! I'm so confused, that I can't seem to tell right from wrong. Do you have any idea what I just did?" Ginny ranted, pacing around the clearing.

"I saw you comforting a friend in need."

"Elora, he is not my friend. He can't be," she said in an unconvinced tone.

"Why not, my dear?"

"He's not like me," she responded, sounding defeated and just a bit petulant.

"You know that is not true. If anything, he is more like you than you can imagine. He is trying to do what is right as best as his circumstances will allow, despite his personal desires."

Ginny stopped her pacing, looking at the elder. "I admit, he's not so bad now. I mean, I actually felt sorry for him. But, how can you say what he's done in the past can be considered 'right'?"

"You need to listen, child. Ponder what he just told you. Your actions tell me that you are beginning to see beyond your narrow view of the world. You must, if you are to succeed."

"Arrgh!" Ginny uttered in frustration, hiding her face in her hands. Elora was right, and Ginny knew it. She found herself actually caring about him. Her problem was that she wasn't quite ready to accept it.


	9. Chapter 9 Father Christmas

Chapter 9 – Father Christmas

There were many reasons that Draco regretted getting on the Hogwarts Express to return home for the Christmas Holidays, not the least of which being a possible encounter with the Dark Lord.

He'd spent most of the month of December dreading the upcoming holidays for exactly that reason.

To his immense relief, the break hadn't been nearly has horrible as he'd feared. Specifically, Voldemort had chosen to spend that time elsewhere attending to whatever it was that Dark Lords attended to.

That said, with only a few days remaining in the break, Draco was now wandering Diagon Alley in an attempt to stay out of his home as much as possible. Even without Voldemort's intimidating presence, the mood within the house was gloomy at best. His father remained sullen and withdrawn and his mother doted endlessly.

Only a few months ago, Draco might have joined them in their depression, but he'd recently realized that he was tired of feeling defeated.

He'd also come up with an idea for a very special Christmas gift for the one person who had given him this small bit of hope.

Now, as he walked down the once busy street, he thought about his little nymph. Every memory of her seemed to make him smile and now he was looking forward to bringing her a gift that would return the favor.

Over the past few weeks, the two of them had developed what might be called a friendship. It had started with the day that she'd kissed him and had grown steadily after that. The defining moment had been the day that she saw her brother Bill follow Draco back from a Hogsmeade trip.

On that particular day, Draco had been aware that he was being followed, which wasn't unusual, but he hadn't realized by whom until he'd almost reached the edge of the forest.

Ginny had witnessed the entire exchange. By the time Draco had been able to make his way to the clearing alone, Ginny had been in tears, watching her brother leave and remaining unable to leave the cover of the forest shadows, nor say anything to him. It made Draco wonder about who seemed to determine the mysterious rules that she now had to live by and, more importantly, why such rules were put in place.

But he also had the opportunity to return the favor of holding her, as she had once held him when he'd been distressed.

That had been the final breakthrough between them. From that point, she welcomed his presence openly and Draco had enjoyed it.

And so, the days of December went by with little drama for Draco, as everyone in the school seemed to have their attention on their own matters. He enjoyed the time spent with hisnymph, as he'd come to think of her.

As the winter break neared, Draco found himself becoming a bit morose. He didn't look forward to spending the Christmas holidays at his home this particular year, the possibility of facing the Dark Lord again directly being one of his most serious concerns.

About a week before he had to leave, he noticed that Ginny seemed to be reflecting his rather glum mood. He'd gone to the clearing, with the intent of studying, to find her pacing and muttering silently to herself.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, only half-jokingly.

She jumped, startled, then appeared to be embarrassed by her display, quickly moving toward him to cast her warming charm on him. On a total impulse, he caught her by the waist, preventing her from moving away too quickly.

"Something is bothering you," he stated.

He was surprised that she made no attempt to pull away from him but simply looked down, her demeanor appearing sad. He had noticed that when she seemed sad that her clothing seemed to lose some of its vibrancy and this time was no exception.

"Are you sad about not being able to go home for the holidays?"

She nodded, not looking at him, but instead focusing on the folds of his cloak, idly playing with the clasps. He deduced that it was only part of the reason for her mood. He much preferred her to be happy, he decided, but was at a loss for how to cheer her up.

Several questions later, he found that, in addition to not seeing her family, she was actually sad that he was going to be leaving for almost three weeks and that she was going to miss him. He found that he was quite happy about that. Better yet, during the entire conversation, she'd remained close to him, wrapped in his loose embrace.

The closeness had far too strong of an effect on him. He took the opportunity to reach one hand around her mostly bare back to pull her closer and use his other hand to lift her chin to look up at him.

He kissed her.

The first time, when she'd kissed him, it had been short and sweet. This time, however, he had no intention of pulling away until absolutely necessary. It delighted him that after a few moments of surprise at his action, she returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm. She was soft and warm and delightful to hold and he soon found that he had to hold himself back from doing much more than that, as it quickly became abundantly clear that she was innocent of anything more.

He had difficulty concentrating on his studies that afternoon. After they broke apart, he actually made a half-hearted attempt to pull out his books but he found it impossible to focus as he kept glancing over at his nymph, frequently catching her glancing back at him shyly. He loved it.

The next day he returned to find her waiting, looking shy and lovely and for the first time, instead of waiting for her to approach him, he moved to embrace her. This time, when he leaned down to kiss her, she lifted her lips to meet his. He found himself unable to resist smiling in smug satisfaction, until she pulled away to give him a playful slap, mouthing the word "prat".

The day he had to leave, he stopped by the forest on his way to the train and had been delighted to see her pout when he said goodbye. He didn't kiss her then, only because it pleased him to see her pout even further as he left.

His thoughts of her had been a godsend during his weeks away from Hogwarts. It had given him a welcome distraction from his home life. And so now, he eagerly walked the streets of Diagon Alley in search of his rather unusual gift for her.

He'd been quite pleased with himself for his creativity in this regard. Knowing that the nymph would neither need nor want anything his money could buy, he found himself on a quest for information. Not just any information, but specifically, information about various Weasleys.

His plan had been brilliant. Not only had it given him something interesting to do, but it had been fun. It involved being clever and cunning to gather his information without being caught out. He was able to be cunning and, for a change, he didn't have to worry about the terrifying repercussions of his actions. It was merely a playful game. He gathered his facts from various vendors, banks, even the Ministry. All in all, his mission caused the otherwise boring days to fly by.

Finally, after days of success, he gathered the courage to venture into the Weasley joke shop to add the twins to his checklist. Overhearing customers talk in the shop had provided him with a wealth of information to relay to his nymph.

Wandering about the store, he was struck with another rather unconventional idea. Feeling rather over-confident at that point, he walked straight up to the red-head at the cash box to pay for his purchase. The shock on the Weasley brother's face as he paid for his purchase was rather amusing.

Yes, Draco, despite his worst fears was having a good week.

- - -

Ginny watched the blond boy disappear in the direction of the train station with a multitude of confused feelings. Somehow, against her better judgment, she'd become fond of him. He was no longer the enemy and somewhere along the way, they'd reached an understanding.

Watching him when he came to study had given her some insight to his motives. Elora had been right. He was not all that different from her in some ways. It had taken her weeks to accept that. He'd become her steady companion and, oddly enough, knowing he wouldn't be around at Christmas was nearly as bad as not going home herself.

It had all changed the day she saw Bill. Draco had told her about the time that Bill had come to the school in search of clues to her whereabouts. She knew that her family was looking for her and the thought gave her more than a bit of heartache, but she'd been completely unprepared to see Bill only a few hundred feet away, unable to leave the shelter of the trees or even attempt to speak to him.

Her heart had nearly broken when she'd watched her brother walk away.

But Draco had been there, almost immediately, still protecting her secret and holding her while she cried. He never said a word during her entire breakdown. He'd simply wrapped his arms around her and settled down in the shelter of the trees. She'd been so very grateful.

And so they became friends, in her view.

The week before he left, however, everything changed. He'd kissed her. And she'd enjoyed it. And now she was confused again.

She was fond of him, certainly. And Callista had been right as well, he was quite attractive. And she had to admit, she really did enjoy snogging. She was probably closer to him than any boy she'd dated in the past. It was quite strange, considering the fact that she was mute. And now, he'd been gone for only a couple of weeks and she realized that she did miss his company terribly.

It wasn't that she was lonely, actually that was far from the truth. Her week had been filled with lessons from the other nymphs about the workings of the forest as it goes dormant for the winter. Tenere also seemed to know whenever she was free of her lessons and came by to visit her.

She was busy nearly every moment of the day, yet she still found time to miss him. After two weeks, she finally came to admit to herself that she might actually fancy the prat. In fact, she now found herself eagerly awaiting his return.

- - -

Only two days remained before Draco could return to Hogwarts, and never had he been so eager to return to the school. During the entire three weeks of winter break, he'd not had the misfortune of facing the Dark Lord. He was almost ready to breath a sigh of relief. Almost.

That was when word of an explosion at the Weasley joke shop reached him, by way of a very big article on the front page of the Daily Prophet.

Not that the fate of the fool Weasleys meant anything to him directly but it had a rather large impact on him delivering happy news to his nymph, which would thereby make her happy and she would continue to do nice things like snog him senseless.

With that thought in mind, Draco found himself on his final day of winter break trudging his way through the snowy streets on his way to St. Mungo's to check on the red-headed gits.

It wasn't as simple as he'd hoped. There seemed to be Weasleys swarming every hallway of the building making it rather difficult for him to remain stealthy in his mission. Worse, their spouses weren't necessarily red-headed, thereby making it impossible for him to clearly identify whom to avoid. He had to resort to charming his hair dark and standing for several hours near the nurse's station in an effort to eavesdrop.

Fortunately, the idiots only suffered minor injuries. With that knowledge, he was ready to turn around and make a hasty retreat when he heard a name mentioned that seemed to force his feet to stop moving.

Ginny.

Molly Weasley was standing in the hallway, having just heard the Healer's diagnosis, her husband's arms around her in a comforting embrace.

"First Ginny gone missing and now this. Arthur, I'm not sure how much more I can stand," she said said, not quite sobbing, but clearly deep sorrow evident in her voice.

"It's alright Molly. There's no proof of anything. The boys themselves think that it might have been an accident," he said softly.

"You know it's worse than that," she said, her tone changing to show deep concern. "With the boys not working and the bills here, we can't afford to keep looking for her. We can't stretch the budget anymore. We'll probably lose the house to pay for this."

"I know," he responded sadly. "We'll find a way to get by. We may have to put off looking for her for a bit, but we'll find our little Gin-bug. Something will turn up. We won't give up, Molly, I promise."

Oh bugger. The fool Weasleys were spending everything looking for their idiot daughter who was quite safe and ,in fact, had run away. And now they would lose everything over this accident. This was not going to bode well for his happy reunion with his nymph.

Waiting for the attendant to move away from her station, he cast a spell to quietly retrieve the file labeled "Weasley" from the stack on the desk.

The amount listed in the file wasn't so very much, at least not by Draco's standards. Pitiful, actually. Didn't they take donations to cover expenses for these types of things? Apparently not enough. Bugger, bugger, bugger.

It was then hit with a rather novel idea and decided to play Father Christmas to the Weasleys, anonymously, of course. It was something completely uncharacteristic for him but the idea of making his nymph happy was a good motivation. He looked forward to telling her.

For the first time in months, he almost felt good.

--

A/N - Hi folks. Sorry for the delay in posting this. I had a really tough time with some parts of this chapter. Please feel free to write to let me know if it is rough or not clear. I welcome constructive criticism (emphasis on constructive, please). Note that most of the rest of the story is written and will come quickly once I get past the next chapter.


	10. Chapter 10 And Then There was Laughter

A/N - This is coming out quick because of all the wonderful reviewers who gave such quick feedback on the last chapter. Thank you for your feedback! I send you hugs, and a very yummy chapter.

Chapter 10 – And then there was Laughter

- - -

Oddly enough, he even found it easy to sit in the train car and chat with his housemates much like they used to do. Mostly, conversation centered around family and parties and what presents were exchanged. The change in their attitude toward him was surprising but he tried not to give any indication that he noticed.

He was once again in their good graces, even though he'd done absolutely nothing to earn it. His low opinion of the conniving bunch of backstabbers had been reaffirmed.

Not that he had any problem with their behavior. He didn't. He truly understood that it was the nature of anyone sorted into Slytherin. Their lives were based on jockeying into the most opportunistic position, allying with those who seemed most influential either through finance or power. It was all about who was on top and, for the moment, it was him. He accepted that, though he no longer enjoyed it as much now that he'd viewed the other side of the proverbial fence.

The conversation eventually yielded the means of his reversal of fortune. Apparently, his act of going into the Weasley shop had not gone unnoticed – there were many who were shopping for Christmas that day, after all, and the action was unusual enough to be worthy of note. The timing of the disaster only a day later had now cast him in the role of the probable perpetrator. Rumor had even gone about that he'd been under direct orders of the Dark Lord. The actual saboteur had not stepped forward and the alleged action had given Draco a reprieve among the Dark Lord's ranks.

For the first time in many months, he felt more like himself. It was amazing how not being under threat of imminent death could lift one's spirits.

For the time, he was able to focus on good things, even though he knew it was a temporary reprieve. Unbeknownst to his classmates, he had done something nice over the holiday and was willing to let positive feeling from the good deed add to his good spirits.

It wasn't until the end of the train ride when the conversation turned to darker topics. There had been several Death Eater gatherings over the break. Draco had attended, since several were in his family's home. He might be an outcast, but he was expected to follow the Dark Lord's rule, and he continued to be resigned to the matter. He was grateful that he'd not been assigned anything directly, though the rumors had indicated otherwise.

He knew that the others had been at those meetings also, and were looking forward to their initiation soon. They talked about it like it was another rite of passage and of how glorious it would be to finally be fully recognized by the powerful Dark Lord. They dreamed of how their loyalty would bring them greater power and prestige in the new regime and Draco hid his scowl.

Their shortsightedness disturbed him but he chose not to say anything because he knew that nothing he could say would alter their misguided views. He'd been like that once. Unfortunately, it took a horrible change of fortune for him to understand the full repercussion of following such a lunatic. They would have to learn the lesson on their own.

Fortunately, the trip ended soon after, and he had other plans to keep him from dwelling on such dark topics. He exited the train and found a way to avoid his classmates as they traveled back up to the castle, though his newly restored popularity made ditching them a bit more work than he'd expected. He walked past the thestral-drawn carriages and took the path down toward the forest. He knew she would be there to greet him and this time, he was looking forward to surprising her.

His good mood restored at the thought of giving her a gift, he walked happily along the snow covered path. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize he was being followed. He was barely out of sight of the carriage road when he heard the rather whiny tones of Pansy behind him.

"Draco, wait up!"

Reluctantly he turned. He'd kept his good mood so far, but his patience with his fellow Slytherins was wearing thin.

"Pansy."

"Won't you come ride with me?"

Ugh. Apparently, she'd gotten bored hanging off of Nott. He'd noticed that she hadn't been draping herself all over him while on the train.

"I'm taking a walk. I've been cooped up for too long and need to stretch." Far be it from him to mention that she'd been the one to dump him, not that he cared. He didn't want her back anyway but saying that outright was not the proper tactic. That's not how the game was played.

"Now Drakie, you know I was hoping to talk to you more."

"Not now, Pansy. You better get back, before Nott misses you."

"Hmmph," she squeaked, and huffily stomped back to the carriages.

Fortunately, the walk to the forest was long enough for him to forget about her.

He'd barely stepped into the forest canopy when she danced into sight, obviously happy to see him. He felt his smile grow wider at the sight of his little nymph. He liked thinking of her like that. How many men could say they had a personal wood nymph all to themselves? Him. And it made him feel special. It was always nice to have something that was unattainable to others.

He continued to grin at her but refused to increase his pace. Instead, he enjoyed watching her grow impatient. As he reached the shelter of the tree, she finally charged forward, launching herself into his arms. He returned the embrace warmly, pulling her into a soft kiss. He continued to hold her close, wrapping his warm cloak to encompass the both of them.

"You know, I realize you're not cold, but could you at least try to put on something resembling shoes? I get cold just thinking of you running around barefoot in the snow."

She laughed silently. The joy in her eyes was contagious and he impulsively picked her up and carried her over to his usual spot near the large tree. He sat down, keeping her in his arms and was pleased that she didn't seem to argue. They were both wrapped up in the happy moment, after all, they hadn't seen each other for almost three weeks.

Before she could get a chance to pull away, he spoke, "So, would you like your present?" Her eyes grew wide and her smile showed her delight at the thought. She nodded enthusiastically and he could feel his own smile widen at her response.

"Have you been a good little nymph while I've been gone?"

She continued to nod vigorously.

"No running off with centaurs, or creating any snowstorms, or anything like that?" She shook her head negatively in mock seriousness, her smile still firmly in place.

"Good then. There are two parts," her face lit up even further. He hadn't entirely been looking forward to the first part of his gift but seeing her expression spurred him on. He might actually enjoy this after all.

He pulled out a small box, neatly wrapped in yellow paper and a bright golden bow. He wished she could speak because he was certain that a delighted squeal would have escaped from those lovely lips. He started thinking that he didn't even need to see her open the silly thing, since her joy at simply seeing the pretty box was more than enough. He'd been around the rich all his life and had rarely seen anyone, except for a few small children, ever show so much enthusiasm for the pretty wrapping paper.

She opened it enthusiastically and he delighted in watching as her expression changed from excitement, to confusion, to suspicion as the box revealed a single, very elegant looking piece of chocolate covered candy. She was no fool, as he well knew. She recognized it immediately for what it was. A classic from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes: the infamous canary cream.

"Yes, it is. And yes, I got it from your brothers' shop. They just about fell on the floor in shock when I purchased it."

She was confused. It was nice to get something that reminded her of her family, but this? And why? She continued to look at him suspiciously, motioning to the chocolate, then to herself and shook her head.

"No, I don't expect you to eat it. I'm not sure how it would work on you anyway, being a nymph and all."

Her look of confusion increased.

"That's where the second part of the gift comes in. And I can't believe I'm about to say this..." He took a deep breath and paused.

The moment of truth had arrived and he really, really wondered what profound state of desperation had driven him to come up with this idea in the first place. He decided that it was because he was feeling rebellious. A moment of unrestrained idiocy would never, ever be something the Dark Lord would approve. That thought gave him the courage to speak the words.

She was staring at him intently now and he took a deep breath, "I wouldn't do this for just anyone and if you ever tell anyone about it, I'll deny it. Not that you can even speak, but, well..."

He almost lost his nerve to continue. After a brief pause he added, "My gift to you is that I'm going to eat it and you get to watch."

Her jaw dropped open in shock and he once again questioned his sanity in this matter. She started silently laughing so hard that she just about fell out of his lap, except that he still had an arm around her to steady her.

"Well, it _**is**_ supposed to be funny, after all."

She stopped shaking for a moment and looked at him, her eyes watering in laughter, looking down at the deceptively innocent piece of candy and back at him. After contemplating for a wisp of an instant, she nodded enthusiastically. He moved her off his lap.

"All right then. You sit over there. Don't want you to get hurt, after all."

She moved off to sit on the ground a few feet from him, grinning.

He looked at her as she sat on the snow, looking about as beautiful as a sixteen year old witch could appear. He took in the sight of her. She was dressed in something skimpy enough to make any boy go wild, her long red hair cascading over her shoulders, her hazel-green eyes shining in merriment. Yes, he decided, the humiliation was worth this.

"You promise that, if I do this, you aren't going to hold it against me."

She nodded enthusiastically.

"And you realize, that I am seriously doing something that is completely out of character for me."

She gave him a look of amused impatience. Yes, he was well aware that he was stalling.

He tried to school his expression to appear dead serious. "Now, these things are safe, right? And it's only supposed to last a minute?"

She nodded, now obviously accusing of stalling.

"Ok, here goes... This better not hurt," and he, somewhat fearfully, bit into the chocolate treat, watching her as her hands clasped in joyful anticipation.

"It's actually quite good," he remarked. "If the joke shop fails, they could possibly go into candy making."

But she didn't hear him. As he spoke the words, he'd sprouted bright yellow feathers and she'd collapsed on the ground, the light sounds of her all-encompassing laugher filling the clearing.

"Something tells me that I will be eternally grateful that there's no looking glass anywhere near me right now," he muttered.

He made several attempts to look disgusted at his current situation, which had no effect on his audience whatsoever. She actually attempted to look sorry for him for a moment before breaking out further peals of laughter.

He leaned forward to place a feathered elbow on his knee and rest his head on his chin, now resigned to his fate. She saw his pitiful expression and had the good grace to look momentarily abashed at her state of over-exuberant merriment before giving into the moment completely.

Her giggles only grew louder and he found himself thoroughly enjoying the moment, even if it was at his expense. She was almost rolling on the floor, arms clutched around her bare tummy, holding in gasps of delight.

She was gorgeous. There were no other words to describe how beautiful she looked in her joy. He decided that he'd gladly go through this again if it meant he could enjoy this sight more often.

The minute of torture passed quickly and during that time the clearing seemed alight with magic. He could almost see the area sparkle with an incomprehensible power. At first, he thought he was imagining it, or perhaps it was a side effect of the candy but the magical light in the clearing moved in time with the joyful chuckles that he heard from the nymph.

As his feathers molted away and she lay collapsed on the ground, exhausted and still recovering from her gasps, the thought struck him.

He had heard her.

Even when she'd laughed in the past, her expression had been totally silent. Her nymph-friend had told him that she didn't yet have the power to freely interact with the wizarding world, but that her power would grow with time. This was apparently that time.

From what little he'd been able to find about nymphs, it was consistently written that they were creatures of joy and love but his little nymph had always seemed a bit sad. She smiled often enough, certainly. She clearly laughed when she was being mischievous but she'd never once seemed joyful until this moment and it appeared that she'd tapped into something powerful as a result.

She pulled herself up, kneeling before him, taking both of his hands. Obviously, she had no idea of what had just occurred, as she'd been completely lost in the moment. She smiled at him, eyes still watery and sparkling. "Thank you," she mouthed, but it seemed that she'd gone silent again.

He simply smiled at her, happy that he'd accomplished his goal of making her happy. He yearned to bring up the topic of what he'd just seen and heard, but it wasn't the proper time as she leaned in to give him a soft kiss. Sufficiently distracted, he had to force himself back to reality as she pulled away.

"Is that all I get for a full minute of complete and total humiliation?"

She smiled sheepishly.

"Well, I still have the second part of your gift. I'm thinking you might like it as well."

She looked at him as if she didn't really want or need anything else. He liked that about her. Not often that you find a girl so easy to please.

"Don't worry, it's nothing big but, well, I thought you might like to know about how your family is doing."

Her eyes lit up with joy again.

"Well, come along then. Sit with me and I'll fill you in on what I know."

He leaned back against his favorite tree and she made to sit beside him but he pulled her into his lap. After all, he'd earned it after that humiliating display he'd just undergone for her. She smiled indulgently and complied, as he pulled his dark cloak around the both of them. It wasn't that he was cold but he felt that it was cozier having them both wrapped up in the garment.

"Comfy?"

She nodded.

"Good. Now, I'll tell you what I know. I wish it was more but, as you know, your family doesn't exactly trust me."

She nodded in understanding and he was pleased when she leaned her head on his shoulder, looking up at him.

"First, they are all well," he paused to see her relax in his embrace, wondering if she was finally becoming more comfortable with him. He hoped so, and maybe his relaying what information he had would earn her trust further. For some reason, it was important to him.

"There was a minor incident at the twins shop, and the twins spent a couple of days in St. Mungo's but nothing serious." She looked concerned, so he explained further. "I don't know what happened, it might have been something as simple as they mis-stocked some of their items and something accidentally exploded. The investigation report hasn't been released. If I find out more, I'll let you know."

She still looked concerned, so he continued. "Just know that nobody was seriously hurt, just shaken up a bit. It was covered fairly heavily in the papers and from what I heard, they aren't planning on re-opening right now because of all the uncertainty in the Ministry. I guess business has been slowing due to the Dark Lord's activity, but they will be still doing an owl delivery business. It should do well until things settle down."

"Your Father and brother Bill are still looking for you." At this, she looked somewhat dismayed. She was causing her family grief and she couldn't let them know why. He knew it bothered her but she needed to know so he continued, "The twins help a bit as well, but they were working at their business to help out your folks since you're father is no longer working at the Ministry. I hear he's doing some odd jobs on the side with Muggle artifacts but he tries to keep that secret."

She nodded. Her Dad could not go back now that the Ministry was under Voldemort's control She had been wondering how they had been getting along.

"Bill is, of course, still at Gringott's. He's looking well. He gave me quite the dirty look when I went in there. I already told you that his wife is expecting a child but I don't have any further details on when."

She smiled fondly, hoping that she could gather enough power soon to leave this forest and check in on them sometime. It would be nice to see what her new niece or nephew might look like.

"Charlie the dragon keeper came home for Christmas. I saw him in Diagon Alley and he looked well enough. He didn't see me so, unfortunately, I wasn't cursed or anything," he said wryly. She gave him a light slap, and he took the opportunity to pull her closer to acknowledge her teasing.

"Oh, and I went to the Ministry to check on Percy. He's also doing well. I guess he's seeing a nice girl and getting along as well as can be expected. I actually had a good chat with him over lunch. He seems to be an agreeable sort."

Ginny looked at him with surprise. Percy had never been one she'd thought of as 'agreeable'. But Draco went on, "Well, he does work in the Ministry and working in a political environment does require a certain amount of skill and tact. He might have just been being polite out of political  
courtesy but at least he was willing to give me the time of day. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to have much contact with the rest of your family. It seems there's been some sort of falling out?"

She nodded. The rift between Percy and the rest of her family caused her parents a great deal of grief.

"Well, I'm thinking he might be seeing the error of his ways. He's fallen into a similar trap as I have, where we've made decisions in the past that are kind of limiting our choices right now. He's a good sort. I'm thinking that it will work out with him."

She smiled at his words giving his hand a small squeeze.

He continued, "I hope you won't be angry at this, but..." He'd debated about telling her, but what was the fun of doing a good deed if you couldn't share, and it was so fun to see her smile, "I covered your Mother's account at the grocery. I left word that they will tell her that she won some sort of contest. So,  
she's got her account paid and a few Galleons left over to cover expenses for a bit."

She looked at him in awe. He had been worried she might be angry with him, not sure of how she might feel about charity, so he covered. "It's really nothing, you know, for me. But, I know that what  
my father has done has contributed to your father being out of work, so..."

She stopped him by leaning forward and giving him a sweet kiss. He took the opportunity to enjoy his hold around her, as she squirmed in his lap. Momentarily, he felt a bit lecherous for enjoying being able to hold her like this but he overcame the guilty feeling quickly, enjoying it thoroughly. He deepened the kiss, taking the time to run his hand up her side, and along her back. Things were just getting very interesting for him when she pulled back.

He was confused, but then he saw her motioning, rather apologetically for him to continue. Of course.

"Oh, so you're holding out on me until you get the whole story, aren't you?"

She really did look sorry, but she nodded quickly.

"Alright..." he paused, calming himself down and hoping that they could get back to matters soon. "Well, Ron is supposedly still sick at home. Seems like he should be over that bout by now but it's probably a good thing because if he was at school he'd probably provoke me into doing something  
you'd never forgive me for."

She looked at him crossly. There was something more there in her eyes but he wasn't going to push the matter. Not that she could actually explain using hand motions anyway.

"Oh, and one more thing," he added. He felt it would be overkill to tell her that he'd paid the bill for Fred and George at St. Mungo's, but he did have to let her know about one more thing.

She looked at him expectantly.

"I sort of... I left your Mother a note."

She waited for more information.

"It didn't say anything in particular and they don't know it's from me. I know you can't let them know, but it let them know that you're alive and send your love."

He watched her eyes grow watery with tears. He really preferred to see her laugh but the gratitude he saw on her face was reward enough for every last knut he spent on her family this past week. She put her arms around him and held him close for a long moment and he returned the embrace readily.  
She buried her face into his neck and sobbed.

There was nothing he could say and he'd done his best by at least letting her know that they were all well for the time being. Obviously, being away from her family was harder than she normally let on.

Eventually, she'd released her tears and pulled back to look at him gratefully. He reached his hand up to caress her cheek, looking at her closely. "Are you alright?" She nodded and leaned in to kiss him again. The snogging session went on for quite a long while after that.

- -

The week returning after Christmas holiday was always a busy one. With classes resuming, and various prefect duties to be attended, he had no spare time to sneak away. Worse, his renewed popularity left him far to visible to slip away quietly as he'd done in the fall. He now had social duties that required his time if he wasn't going to draw attention to himself. The game was still on, and he had to set up for his social standing after he graduated.

One of his bigger issues revolved around the attention he was getting from several girls. When he'd been on the "outs" during the last semester, it seemed that the Slytherin girls wanted to keep their distance, at least until his status with the Dark Lord was made more clear. Nobody would want to be associated with someone that the Dark Lord had marked as inferior regardless of how good looking he was.

Now, things were different, at least from the perception of his classmates, and he once again found himself being targeted. Not that he minded. Girls were a pleasant enough distraction and it would be out of character to completely deny that fact. So, he took the opportunity to attempt dating again. The problem was, that each girl fell far short of being nearly as fun to be with as his silent nymph. It was rather annoying.

It was almost two weeks into the new term, and he decided to join his housemates on an outing to Hogsmeade. The day had gone well enough, although a bit on the boring side. He had only been there for an hour or so and was already planning on how he might slip away when he was unexpectedly pulled into a dimly lit alley.

Being roughly shoved against a brick wall, he discovered that his attacker was none other than Bill Weasley. Bill, being larger, used his weight to hold him against the wall, his wand up against the boy's throat.

"Do you mind?!" he exclaimed, trying to sound more irritated than frightened.

"You're going to talk to me, Malfoy."

"Gee, what would you like to talk about. Perhaps today's weather?"

"Don't get smart with me. We aren't in your headmaster's office and I want answers about what you did with Ginny."

Thoughts of kissing the girl immediately flashed through his mind, but he stifled the thought, not knowing if Bill had any talent at Legilimency. He said nothing.

"I know you covered the services for the twins at St. Mungo's. It wasn't hard to match up your withdrawal at Gringott's to being the same amount and on the same day."

"First of all, I could have you fired for violating Gringott's privacy policy," Draco retorted sharply. It wasn't exactly the first thought that came to his mind, but it was easier to respond with an attack than the truth in this particular case.

The words didn't seem to phase Bill in the least. If anything, his arm against Draco's throat seemed to press a little harder. Draco coughed, now struggling to breathe.

"You could try that, but you might not live long enough. The only reason you're not dead yet is that you left my Mother that charming little note."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, but you do," Bill said, the snarl in his voice sounding suspiciously like the werewolf that he'd been attacked by.

"You have a tough time showing gratitude, Weasley."

Bill's look of hatred only intensified at the utmost defiance that this boy managed to show. Backed up to a wall, being choked, and he had the gall to taunt his attacker.

He made sure Draco got a good look at his scarred face, and said, "Gratitude? After what you've done to me, and what your family has done to mine?"

"I didn't give you those scars, not personally, anyway. And, yes, gratitude. I paid the bill and made your mother happy for a bit. Are you jealous that I accomplished something you didn't? I'd expect  
that from your dear brother Ronald but I always thought better of you."

Bill released his grip slightly and Draco used the opportunity to slip out of his grasp and reach for his wand. Both wizards now at a standoff, wands raised.

"Don't provoke me, boy," Bill threatened.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Draco said. Trusting that the Weasley was of the same honest character as the rest of that family, he lowered his wand slightly, hoping that the man wouldn't kill him. He knew that  
Weasley wouldn't think the same of him, so if this was going to end peacefully, he had to back down first. If Bill chose to kill him, well, it would put an end to his problems rather quickly. He figured he had nothing to lose.

Bill seemed surprised by the action and relaxed slightly but didn't lower his wand. This one had too many answers to what he needed to know.

"You were in the shop. Did you have anything to do with that explosion?"

"Absolutely not. Not that you'd believe me anyway, but I have no desire to hurt your family right now."

"So, why were you at St. Mungo's? Why did you pay the bill?"

"I thought you had already cleverly figured that out?"

"You're trying my patience. You've got no good reason to try to help my family. That leaves me wondering about your motive. I certainly don't think you did anything decent out of purely good intentions."

"You have no idea what my reasons are. And, yes, helping your family, for the time being is in my best interest. You can know that it's just me and that my parents had nothing to do with it."

"And the note?"

"It made your mother happy, didn't it?"

"Of course it did!" Bill's voice raised in frustration. "But is it true? Does it mean she's alive? Is she safe?"

"I can't answer that. Just know that the note says the truth," and with that Draco had turned and calmly walked away, returning to the main street. If Bill was going to shoot him, he would have to do so in the back. He was certain that the Gryffindor honesty wouldn't allow for that. So he walked away with confidence, knowing that Bill would be fuming behind him.

Bill watched him go, now with even more questions than he'd had before their little conversation.

- -

Ok, dear readers. This is a lot of work. So, please, click the little review button and tell me if you appreciate my work. Thank you in advance.


	11. Chapter 11 Discoveries

Hello Gentle Readers,

It is a very rainy weekend and I've got a lot of time to work on this. So, here goes the next chapter... as always, your reviews are greatly appreciated.

--

Chapter 11 – Discoveries

It was two days before he could return again, and it had been a long, harrowing two days. Carrow had pulled him aside to harass him further about his alleged involvement in the explosion at the Weasley business, Pansy had now added herself to his list of shadows and the encounter with the elder brother had left him feeling confused.

He used the excuse of going to study as he grabbed books and parchment and headed out of the castle to his favorite study spot, the only place that he could totally be at ease.

As he walked down the familiar path, passing the lake, he allowed his thoughts to wander to the laughter he shared with his nymph in the forest. He wondered what today would bring and he found himself looking forward to the meeting.

Until he heard a voice interrupt his thoughts. A high-pitched, rather annoyingly whiny voice.

"So this is where you wander off to all the time."

"Pansy," he acknowledged, "I was just out for a walk. I don't ... wander."

"I know. Which is why I figure that you are hiding something down here," she responded.

"I come down here to study."

"Yes, but what are you studying? It's something important isn't it?"

"It's none of your business, Pansy."

"It most certainly is," she said, refusing to back down. He should have expected it. She must have been watching for days to trail him this far. She was a determined bint.

She continued, her voice becoming ever more annoying, "It has something to do with the Weasley attack doesn't it? You're planning something big, aren't you? Like last year?"

"No."

"I want to help!" she insisted. "I know I can help you. I want to be with you when you finish this. If we do, the Dark Lord will favor us both!"

He continued walking, making it appear that he was going to the far side of the lake instead of toward the forest. Unfortunately he wasn't sure of how he could get away from her without giving away his final destination.

Undeterred, she continued, "It has something to do with the power of wood nymphs, doesn't it?"

He stopped, now at the edge of the forest, by the lake. He couldn't go further, not without giving away more information about his favorite place. Even if he turned away, it would likely tell Pansy that the location was special. He put his satchel down, near the lake, hoping to indicate that he intended to settle there.

"Pansy, you have no idea what you are talking about. Where did you get such a ridiculous idea?"

"From the books you were researching in the fall. I charmed the rows to find what you'd read, and every text had references to wood nymphs. They have power that the Dark Lord would want, don't they? How do you plan to get it?"

She'd hit frighteningly close to the mark. The girl was disturbingly bright for her overwhelmingly annoying tendencies.

"I don't know what you are talking about," he stated to her.

"You used that power to destroy the Weasley place, didn't you?" she stated admiringly.

There was no deterring the girl. Continuing to deny that he had any malicious intentions by coming down to the forest area would only inspire her to dig further. He felt that the only way to get her to leave him be was to go along with her assumptions.

"Yes Pansy, I'm not denying anything, but this is something that I need to do alone. It takes too long to infiltrate the nest of these beasts," she nodded, wide-eyed. "If you think you can help, I need you to keep Bill Weasley and his friends away from me. Longbottom and a few other Gryffindors keep following me. They suspect me about the shop, Weasley confronted me about it in Hogsmeade last weekend," she'd likely be able to confirm it, if she wanted. He doubted that the confrontation had gone completely unnoticed.

"You took the Weasley girl, didn't you?" she asked abruptly.

He tried to read her and he quickly concluded that his classmates had indeed been spying on him. They probably already knew everything that had transpired between himself and Bill Weasley. Considering his options, half truths might be the best lie in this game with the Death Eaters. If Voldemort eventually won, he'd have some chance at salvaging his reputation with them.

"I can't tell you, Pansy. Not yet, anyway, but I promise to keep you in the loop if and when I succeed in what I'm doing."

She smiled conspiratorially, "I should have known that you were always way ahead of anything that any of the others could come up with. You want to use this to put them all in their place." She sided up to him, put her arms around his neck in what she probably considered to be seductive and looked at him flirtatiously. She was such an opportunistic bitch. It had never bothered him in the past, but then, he'd been on top, so he didn't have the perspective he'd gained these last few months.

He didn't pull away, although he wanted to. "You know me well, Pansy," he agreed. No need to tell her what he really thought of her, as it wouldn't gain him anything. "Now, please, help me out by keeping this quiet."

"Of course, Draco," she said. "But don't keep me in the dark for too long. I would hate to miss the surprise."

"When the time is right, I promise," he confirmed.

He breathed a sigh of relief when she trotted off but the situation did not bode well for him. If Parkinson had been able to follow, others probably would as well. Worse, she'd had a good idea about what had drawn him out here. It meant that he'd been careless and it would likely cost him the only thing that brought him any escape from his miserable life. Worse, if he could no longer spend time here, he probably would never be able to find out if the power he saw Ginny draw could be used to his advantage.

Satisfied that Pansy was far enough away, he turned down the path that led to the clearing.

He was disappointed to find the area empty. After his bad week and considering how enjoyable his last meeting in this clearing had been, he'd been hoping for an enthusiastic welcome from his little nymph.

He decided to wait in his usual location by the tree, the way he'd done in the fall. He sat patiently, scanning the area as unobtrusively as possible. When he saw the distortion in the trees, he turned directly to her.

"Why don't you come out and see me?"

She walked out of the shadows, obviously amazed that, once again, he had no problem seeing through her disguise.

"It bothers you that I can do that, doesn't it?" he grinned, as he gracefully got up and walked to meet her, happy to see her.

She didn't return the smile. Instead, she backed away from his touch.

"What's wrong?"

She jabbed a finger at his chest, and pointed back down the path. She mouthed the word "Pansy".

"You heard what we said?"

One clear nod of her head confirmed that she did and she wasn't happy. Ugh. He gave an exasperated sigh. His week was just getting worse by the minute. Now he had to convince the nymph that he'd willingly lie to Pansy, but not to her. Never a good situation with a female.

"You don't think that anything I said to her was true, do you?"

Crossing her arms across her chest, she looked at him expectantly. He guessed he was going to have to explain.

"I had to get rid of her. She figured out too much and denying it would only make matters worse."

She said nothing, looking hard at him. He rubbed his hand over his face, messing up his hair in the process. Only honesty would work with this one.

"I did see your brother Bill on Saturday in Hogsmeade. You know he's convinced that I had something to do with your disappearance and the fact that I happened to go into the joke shop two days before the accident seems to be enough for him to think I had something to do with it."

Her eyes flashed with suspicion and anger. While he did want to know what kind of magic she possessed, he really wasn't interested in finding out by her using it on him. He wondered if she might rip him apart if she truly thought he'd been involved with injuring one of her family.

"Of course I didn't have anything to do with it!" he exclaimed, slightly annoyed that she would accuse him. "What would I have to gain from that? But it seems that word of me being in there got around to a few Death Eaters and now all my housemates seem to think that I had something to do with it too."

He laughed bitterly, "Isn't it ironic that, for the first time I do something nice for someone, I get pinned for being the villain." He started pacing, obviously trying to dispel some of his frustration. "Not that I'm surprised, after all. After last year, I fully expect people to assume the worst but that's not the funniest part."

He looked over at her, she no longer seemed angry. In fact she looked a bit contrite for having accused him. He continued, "The funniest part of it all is that now I'm back in Voldemort's good graces! In fact, my social status in Slytherin is at an all time high and the true irony of it all is that I absolutely hate it!"

She walked over to him and touched his arm. He stopped pacing to look at her again. She was sorry, and he was glad that she seemed to believe him.

"Funny how we can have an argument and you don't have to say a word. I think I'd be terrified of you if you could actually speak."

She smiled and she moved to embrace him. He hugged her in return and rested his chin on the top of her head. He had just a bit more to tell her.

"The bad news is that now that I'm popular again, they actually care about what I'm doing these days. I can't sneak away like I used to. Parkinson's been paying attention all along, apparently, since she noticed what I was studying up on when I first started coming here. She still fancies me, I suppose. She won't stay away for long and I expect she'll find this spot soon enough."

He pulled back and looked at her, "It won't be safe for me to see you here any more. So, it looks like you'll finally be rid of me."

She looked distressed at the thought, which fed his ego sufficiently. She caught his smug expression and gave him the "arrogant git" look.

"Ahh, so you will miss me," he chuckled. "Think of how boring it will be here without me coming by to tease you."

She smiled, and shook her head "no".

"No, what? You won't be bored?"

She shook her head again and moved away, taking his hand and leading him to the far end of the clearing, near one of the largest trees. He willingly followed, though he found traversing over the huge gnarled roots of the area somewhat difficult in his light boots. The nymph, he noticed, had no trouble with the snowy uneven surface in her bare feet.

She climbed a small knoll and when they reached the top, she motioned beyond the clearing. He looked to see what she was motioning toward so enthusiastically, and he saw... swamp.

The girl really had a sense humor, he thought as he struggled to stay upright on the slippery surface, muttering something about his recent loss of sanity for even being there. His look probably said it all and she started laughing.

The light happy sound caught his attention immediately. He turned to her, suddenly reminded of the burst of magic that accompanied her laughter the other day. He didn't see the echoes of magic this time but she had retained the ability to audibly laugh. He hoped he could find out what had changed.

"You know, I can hear you now. I noticed the other day. I couldn't hear you before. I wanted to bring it up, but, well, we were distracted..."

She nodded. Apparently, she was aware something had changed. She still had hold of his hand and gave it a slight squeeze and motioned to the swamp again. He turned to look to see if there was something of interest that he'd missed in his first look at the place.

What he saw was amazing.

The swamp had been replaced by a scene that only could have been described as pure enchantment. In front of him was a clearing that glowed with magic, and at its center was a pool of water that glowed with a multi-hued rainbow of colors.

On the far end of the pool was a hillside that seemed to be made of pure obsidian, it's black glossy surface broken by a small waterfall that cascaded in pure white sparkles. The trees were alight in color, as if the life force of them flowed with magic. The snow covered trees and grasses surrounding the pool had the look of pure living crystal. Faeries could be seen in some of the shrubs. He turned to look back into the clearing that they'd just left, and only saw more of the enchanted land behind him.

He was quite certain that this place was not exactly part of the world he knew.

"It's a gateway, like the one in the Leaky Cauldron?" he asked. She nodded.

She walked down the small hill, toward the pool and he followed, taking in as much of the crystal wonderland as he could without tripping on the tree roots. Once they'd reached the edge of the pool, she stopped. She looked up at him happily, hoping to get his reaction to the wonder of the place.

He was speechless. She took the moment to look smug at that.

After a moment, he recovered his vocabulary, "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

She shook her head.

"I get it, you didn't trust me. I understand."

She shook her head again.

It was one of those moments that he truly wished they could end the pantomiming and simply have a normal conversation.

"You couldn't bring me here?"

She nodded.

The place was beautiful and it was easy to see why someone would escape into this realm if they could. He didn't know Ginny's reason for retreating here, but he found himself envious. She was able to run away from the problems of their world by being here, and he was left to face the mess that the Dark Lord's war was leaving behind.

He took in more of the view around him. This was so much more than he had been hoping to find when he entered this forest so many months ago. He had suspected that there was magic and power here and his quest to find it had finally succeeded, but to what end? He dropped by the water's edge, and dipped his hand into the glowing magic. The water felt silky as it ran between his fingers and he watched as the colors played across the surface, changing where he touched, as if his interaction had affected it in some way.

"This is amazing," he said, finally turning back to her.

She nodded.

He looked at her, taking in the seriousness of her expression. She'd come here for the same purpose has he had. She'd been looking for power, something to help her fight the Dark Lord, probably to save her beloved Potter. "You came here to find this."

She nodded again.

"So, can you use it? Will it help you?"

She shook her head negatively, her shoulders slumping. Obviously, whatever she found had not been her answer. Her disappointment over the fact showed in her entire demeanor. It wasn't the answer he'd hoped to hear.

He walked over to her, thinking oddly to himself how, here he was, at the center of the most powerful magic he'd ever experienced and all he wanted was to be near her. He pulled her into his embrace, feeling her sigh as she relaxed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Can I safely assume that others can't find us here?", he asked. He received an affirmative nod against his shoulder. It would seem that his recent dilemma was now solved. Pansy could follow to her heart's content and not find him in his retreat. He found that he was surprisingly relieved.

"So, is this where you disappear to when I'm not around?"

She nodded and motioned to a spot under one of the tree's giant roots. It appeared to be a cozy little alcove, even seemed to have what looked like a blanket made of a soft mossy material. She put her hands together and placed them on the side of her face, motioning that she slept there.

"Lovely view to wake up to, it would seem."

She smiled, but sadly.

Funny, he hadn't thought of where she would sleep in the forest before now. He'd realized at some level that she had to, of course, but he'd been so involved in his own problems that he'd completely overlooked the thought. It was good to see she had someplace that was clearly safe for her. Again, he was drawn to thinking of how it felt to hold her, thinking that his priorities were sadly misplaced by focusing on the girl, not the magic that he so desperately needed.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "It will be alright, Ginny. Your power is growing. It will work out."

She smiled up at him gratefully and nodded. Then she stood on her toes and reached her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

- - -

He was able to return a few days later, irresistibly drawn back to his nymph and the enchanted area that she called home. He'd found it nearly impossible to leave last time, finding that leaving the girl was just has difficult for him as leaving the magical area.

The legends said that men who met nymphs sometimes never returned. He was starting to understand why. That was when he was hit by an epiphany of sorts.

He"d been snogging her, and as he ran his hands along her bare back and looked over at where she slept, and his hormones led his thoughts to what it would be like to share her little bed. Then she looked up at him and he mentally kicked himself for the thought. She was looking up at him, her hazel-green eyes looked at him in total trust.

She was innocent. He'd gathered that quite clearly during their snogging sessions that she was completely inexperienced when it came to physical relationships. That thought hadn't posed much of a problem for him earlier but somewhere along the way, her friendship had come to mean something to him.

Then came a more serious thought to consider. His knowing about this place put her and her family in danger. If Voldemort, a known Legilimens, could capture even a shred of his thoughts, he would do everything to try to gain access to the nymphs and this haven. His little forays into the woods had been a harmless retreat, a game to try to find out the secret of the wood nymphs, now that he had it, he dreaded what would happen as a result of the information.

Now with more than one reason, he had to leave and forget about this place as best as possible, for her own protection.

He gave a heavy sigh, releasing her and, as expected, she looked up at him for explanation.

"I can't be here. I have to leave and I shouldn't come back."

Why. He saw the silent question in her eyes.

"It's not safe for you. I... I can't believe I'm saying this, but I really don't want to hurt you, and I'm afraid that if I keep seeing you, especially here," he looked around the clearing, looking at her little cubbyhole. "If I keep seeing you, I'm going to hurt you, one way or another."

She shook her head, denying his words. It was amazing how much temper she could put into an expression, and she clearly was trying to tell him that that was for her to decide.

"You know I'm right, Ginny." She grabbed at his hand, trying to get his attention, wishing she had words to use. "If Voldemort finds out what I know, we're both in danger, even more than we were before. He'll target us, our families, everything we love."

She shook her head, no.

"And what about you?" She looked confused. "I can't do this, Ginny," he admitted. "I can't keep hiding here. "

She took both his hands forcing him to face her, trying to understand why he seemed insistent on leaving with no intention of returning. He couldn't help himself as he took in her form, dressed in soft green, hair loosely flowing over her shoulders, her green eyes pinning him with intensity. He thought of her when she laughed with joy a few days ago, and his lecherous feelings returned. She was still innocent, and if this continued, he would make sure that she wouldn't remain so for much longer.

"I can't stay here with you," he stated simply. "I'm going to have to leave at some point, and if I spend any more time with you..." he paused, "You really are beautiful, you know," he told her, "it's getting harder for me to control myself around you."

She looked surprised, as if his admission was a complete revelation for her.

"Don't tell me that you didn't notice the way I look at you," he said. He narrowed his gaze, letting her know with a look exactly what he was thinking.

She looked down and blushed. He stepped close, and gently lifted her chin so she had to look up at him. Her eyes were dark and he had no doubt that she found him at least attractive. But she was Potter's girl and he didn't need anyone finding out that he'd been playing with the little Weasel while Potter was off saving the world. He already had enough of the world out to get him, he didn't need to add to his problems.

"Can you honestly say that you haven't thought about me the same way?"

She blushed further and shook her head no, closing her eyes. She had been thinking the same way, but she didn't want him to know this. He'd become her friend, her tether to her old life. She had been trying to convince herself that her attraction to him was based only on that.

"I truly do not want to hurt you and you know that will happen if we continue this. Whatever this is."

She still had her eyes closed, but a single tear escaped and dripped down her cheek.

"I want to ask one thing of you," he asked, and she nodded in response, still slightly shocked by his admission. He looked into her eyes to make sure that she understood. "If you figure this out," he motioned to the enchanted hues around the water, "If you find a way to use all this power, please, try to use it to help me and mine. Yeah?" She nodded numbly, but willing him not to turn away from her.

"I better go now." He started to turn back to the clearing, shoulders once again sagging with his burden. He was no longer the same selfish git she'd known. He was trying to do something unselfish, and somehow, she'd been the reason for it.

She'd wanted to be rid of him for so long and now he was leaving, just when she'd come to actually like him. Worse, she found that being without his companionship was something that she truly could not bear right now.

She ran after him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. Her look showing a mixture of temper, intensity and determination.

"It's getting dark, Ginny. I should be getting back," as he tried to break from her grasp to leave. She refused to let go of him. He sighed. "Ginny," he said gruffly, "if you don't let me go now, I'm not sure I'm going to have the willpower to leave at all."

She didn't let go. Instead, she pulled him closer and kissed him with the same passion and intensity that he'd just seen in her eyes.

It was too much for him. She'd initiated it, knowing full well that the action would tempt him mercilessly, and once he pulled her into his embrace, there was little chance of going back.

Cuddled in her little cave, he finally found out that it was simply her will that bound her unusual garments together. His clothing took a bit longer to be divested. She trembled in his arms and he did his best to be slow and gentle with her. After they made love, he held her close until she fell asleep in his embrace. He pulled his cloak over the both of them and lay awake, watching the magic cascade over them from the enchanted spring.

He debated about getting back to the school, but quickly dismissed the thought. He wouldn't be leaving her here alone this night. She slept soundly, cuddled in his embrace as he stayed up late into the night watching the faeries and pixies dance in the moonlight over the crystal waters. He was entering new territory, one where he was growing into a different person. He wanted to think that it scared him, but somehow the rightness of the moment wouldn't let him to give into the fear.

A pair of unicorns stopped at the water's edge to take a drink and as they left, he finally fell into a deep, peaceful slumber.

- - -

Ok folks... please take a moment to send a review. It really means a lot after putting months of work into a story to know what you think, both good and bad. Thank you.


	12. Chapter 12 Power

A/N – this chapter really needs some beta work. If anyone would like to send comments on the chapter please feel free to PM me.

- - - - -

Chapter 12 – Power

He awoke feeling content and well rested. It took him a moment to realize where he was and found himself extremely happy that the events of the previous night were not just a dream. His little nymph remained cuddled close to him and he turned to study her in sleep, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. He was debating about waking her when his thoughts were disrupted by the sound of a giggle.

Since the only person he would expect to giggle was currently asleep next to him, and the sound was distinctly behind him, he quickly came to the conclusion that they were no longer alone.

He thought about reaching for his wand, which he quickly realized was an annoyingly great distance away neatly tucked in his discarded clothing. Instead, he turned to glance out of the alcove. His view of the enchanted spring was slightly blocked by several beautiful girls, all of whom he assumed to be nymphs. They were clearly interested in nothing other than him at the moment and he became all too aware of the fact that the cloak that he'd been using as a blanket had shifted during the time he'd been asleep, revealing just a bit too much of his backside.

Trying to simultaneously shift the cloak to cover himself while attempting to reach for his wand, he must have uncovered and awoken his companion. As he pulled at the cloak, still staring at the intruders he heard a soft "Hey," as the cloak was tugged back.

"Sorry," as he readjusted the item, wrapping his arm around his lover and pulling her close. "We seem to have visitors," he whispered, motioning back behind him, once again moving the cloak, inspiring another giggle from one of the observers.

She peered over his shoulder, to find a small gathering of smiling faces looking back at them.

"Reya, Elora, please, could you?" as she motioned for them to move away. The girls waved and giggled and moved off, chattering amongst themselves.

"They are talking about me," he groused, turning his attention back to the naked nymph lying next to him. "I assume they are friends of yours," he said, as she giggled in agreement. He gave up on worrying about the interruption as he'd decided that kissing her neck had suddenly become far more important.

She giggled in response, but as he continued to kiss her, she seemed to become tense, as she pulled the cloak closer to cover herself.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, suddenly seeming shy, but she was smiling at him. She seemed so young and as thoughts of the previous evening's activity came back to his mind. He felt guilty for a moment.

"You don't regret..."

She put a finger to his lips, effectively stopping him from finishing the statement. She shook her head, no, and reached her hand to his face, softly brushing his hair from his forehead and tracing her fingers along his cheek. She studied him carefully for a moment, before leaning forward to kiss him on the lips.

They made love again and he held her close for a long while after, stroking her hair.

"I better get back. The sun's already up and I'm sure someone has noticed I've gone missing."

She reluctantly agreed.

He dressed quickly, not wanting to get caught again on display by the giggling bunch of nymphs. As he buttoned his shirt, a realization struck him.

"You spoke."

She looked surprised.

"You spoke to them. You called one Reya, and another Elora?"

"I guess I did," she seemed as surprised as he did. Both paused to show amazement at the sound of her voice.

His face lit with a smile. "That's wonderful!"

She nodded enthusiastically, the realization still sinking in. "They said that my power needed to grow as I learned. But I still don't know what it is that I did to earn that."

"The last time was the laughter after Christmas. That was the first time I heard you laugh. I could see the magic around you."

"You could?"

He nodded, "It looked like the spring, the same colors. I saw it again, last night after you fell asleep. I thought it was just the normal way this place looked at night."

She looked thoughtful, still wrapped in his cloak. "I'm not sure. I didn't notice it either time but I've never seen the magic move around me."

It was so odd to hear her voice. It was soft and sweet, just like she was and he wanted to hear it more. The mystery of why she managed to increase her skills would have to wait, though. He really did need to get back. He didn't need anyone suspecting that he was away from the school for so long.

"I'd better go..." he said. She started to hand him the cloak and he stopped her. He'd thought about asking for the cloak back but seeing her unclothed again would not expedite his departure. "No, you keep it. I have others. Something to remind you of me, yeah?"

She nodded again, still seeming shy. He knelt down next to her, caressed her cheek gently and gave her a soft kiss. "It might be a bit before I can get back but I will be thinking of you. I promise."

She nodded and watched him as he walked back over the knoll, turning to give her one more smile before returning to his own world.

- - - -

Returning to the castle in the early morning felt particularly surreal. The weather was unusually warm for January, causing a heavy fog to float over the snow covered grounds. It worked in his favor for two reasons, the first being that it minimized the risk that he would be seen returning at such an odd hour and the second was that, having left his cloak with Ginny, he would have been quite chilled once her warming spell had worn off.

He entered the castle feeling better than he had in a very long time, although his good mood was cut short much too soon. His timing for entering the castle could not have been worse. As soon as he walked through the main hall and turned toward his dormatory, he found that Amycus Carrow was, unfortunately, an early riser.

"Mr. Malfoy, you seem to be up quite early today."

"Yes, Professor," he agreed, as blandly as possible.

"I was hoping to talk with you last night, but you seemed to have missed dinner. Might I ask why?"

"Just trying to get prepared for the term, Professor."

"Yes, of course," the man agreed, using a falsely condescending tone. "Might I ask what sorts of matters needed such dire attention that you weren't in your common room either?"

So, Draco surmised that the man suspected that he'd been out and, for some annoying reason, seemed to feel that he needed to know his whereabouts. Draco found himself grateful that he'd left his cloak behind because, had he been caught wearing the garment, it would have been quite clear that he'd not returned to his room at all last night.

"I was just out for a walk last night, Professor. I returned just before curfew."

"Well, I must have missed you then," the Dark Arts professor said, clearly suspicious, but not pressing the matter. "Well, back to why I was looking for you..."

Draco gritted his teeth, trying to look as unconcerned as possible. This man was a nuisance.

"Yes, Professor?"

"It would seem that your little friends seem to be enamored with the idea that you had something to do with a bit of excitement over the holiday."

Draco tried to look bored. Carrow was obviously referring to the Weasley shop incident.

"Many of them look up to you, for some unknown reason," the professor eyed him disdainfully before continuing, "Now, between you and me, I think that that particular little display was not your style."

Obviously.

"I don't know what you mean, Professor," Draco responded dryly. Somehow, this man knew he had nothing to do with the explosion. So much for the cover that the little coincidence had provided.

"Come now, boy, you know exactly what I mean. What was your purpose in that little shop? Surely, you didn't go in to just purchase something. I'm thinking you have something going on with those Weasleys and you're not letting on."

If the bastard only knew how right his words were.

Carrow seemed to assume that he had been giving some sort of information to the Weasley twins while he'd gone into the shop. Possibly someone else had come to the same conclusion as well and that's why the shop had been targeted. Or, it was possible that the perpetrator had been Carrow himself? Draco quickly dismissed that as unlikely, as Carrow would have been too recognizable if he'd gone anywhere near the place. Draco had to assume that Carrow was fishing for information or he would have been approached on the matter sooner.

Draco said nothing. It would do him no good to either confirm or deny the idiot's suspicions.

"Now, if you are friendly with these Weasleys for some reason, I'd like to know why. Where were you last night Mr. Malfoy? I'm quite certain that you never returned to your common room."

It was time for this conversation to end.

"Professor, if I didn't know better, I would think that your infatuation with my personal habits had nothing to do with your sister, as you've been repeatedly implying. I assure you, I am only interested in women."

Carrow paused momentarily thrown by the remark and Draco used the opportunity to turn on his heel and stride off purposefully toward breakfast.

- - - -

Ginny's morning was equally unhappy, though much of it was by her own doing.

After he left, she went for a swim in the enchanted pool, trying to focus on enjoying the feel of the water as she glided through its calm energy. Her thoughts, however, were in turmoil and she swam trying to sort out her feelings about the events of the past day.

What she wanted to think about was her newfound increase in power. She badly wanted to try to understand what had happened to see if it might help in her quest, but her ability to focus on the subject was completely lost.

All she could dwell on was the fact that her body had been changed irrevocably, beyond being transformed into a nymph. She'd slept with him. She'd actually physically made love to a boy and she would never be a girl again. A part of her mind held the logic of why she'd been so willing to be with him, and she didn't completely regret it. He'd been wonderful to her, yet another part of her felt nothing but guilt.

For years, the only person she'd imagined being her first was Harry. Yet, he wasn't here and hadn't been here for months. Still, she felt that she should have waited for him. He'd left her to pursue his destiny, possibly never to return to her. She'd been angry and hurt for a long time over his departure.

Far more significantly, she'd left her old life behind in the hope of helping him and the others she loved. Even if Harry returned, it was likely that she'd never encounter him again. She was lost to that other world as surely as if she'd been killed.

But her feelings were far more muddled than that. She remained deeply disturbed by the single fact that, despite having been missing and doting on the thought of Harry for such a long time, she hadn't really thought about him in weeks. Worse, she didn't have even the briefest thought of him last night or this morning while she lay with Draco. That realization left her with a far greater guilt than she ever thought imaginable.

Her actions had been purely selfish. She'd done it because she didn't want him to leave. Over the last few months he'd become her friend and companion and, most of all, her link to her old world. Her new life afforded no other contact. So, somewhere along the way, she'd come to need him like she'd never needed another person.

Worse, he'd changed. He'd grown. He turned into someone, a very handsome someone, that she had truly grown to like, even love in some strange way. He'd wanted to leave her so he wouldn't hurt her, so she took away his reason to stay away.

So, on top of feeling guilt about sleeping with someone who wasn't Harry, she also had to deal with the guilt of knowing that she prevented his worst enemy from actually committing an unselfish act. She was truly a mischief making nymph, and at the moment she felt she was pure evil.

Elora and the others returned shortly after she'd finished her swim and dressed for the day. The nymphs were happy and chatty and cheerful, eagerly awaiting to hear the details of her encounter.

Ginny found herself somewhat overwhelmed at their enthusiasm. Apparently, sleeping with a wizard was far from being considered unacceptable or immoral. They seemed to delight in the idea. Ginny was flabbergasted.

"If he were my assignment, I don't think I'd have waited so long to have him," Callista swooned. "He's quite the handsome one."

Tara, a green haired nymph chastised her laughingly, "That's probably why you didn't get the assignment!"

"Oh, you are such a spoilsport! Don't tell me you would have waited very long either!" Callista retorted.

The conversation was cheerful, though Ginny didn't contribute much. Mostly, they encouraged Ginny and congratulated her that her powers as a nymph had become more fully realized.

Elora sent them off, noticing that Ginny was becoming more pensive and withdrawn from the others.

Reya, always the calm one, touched Ginny on the shoulder as she left, "It's alright Ginny. We can talk later. I know everyone at once is a bit much but they mean no harm."

She smiled at her friend. "Thanks Reya, I do want to tell you everything. It just seems odd right now."

Her friend smiled and moved off, leaving Ginny alone with her mentor.

"Elora, what have I done?"

"You opened your heart to someone in need. Is that not clear to you?"

"No! No, it's not clear at all! I shouldn't have done that! It was wrong," she stood and paced, wringing her hands as she spoke.

"What was so wrong?"

"I was selfish, I didn't want him to leave and never come back. So I took away the reason he claimed for leaving."

"He didn't want to hurt you." Ginny paused at the remark. Elora knew exactly what had happened between her and Draco, somehow. In a way, it made it easier for her to talk to her mentor. The nymph's wisdom reminded her of Dumbledore.

"No, he didn't. It was the most selfless thing I could have imagined him saying. It was so not like him. In fact, it was nothing like him. He's supposed to be selfish, and cruel, and he wasn't... he wasn't." She sat next to Elora and sobbed.

Elora took the girl into her arms, holding her while she cried.

"So, you are sad that he is not what you wanted him to be?"

"No..." she sniffed, pulling away from Elora's embrace, "no, it's not that."

"Then what?"

"I'm supposed to love someone else. It was wrong of me to be with him."

"Yet, you've grown closer to him than you have possibly anyone. Is that not true?"

"Yes, he's become my friend, I suppose. He seems to need me."

"And you found him handsome, did you not?"

"I never said he wasn't... it was just that he was so horrible to everyone I've ever known that he wasn't someone I'd care to think of as someone I would be involved with in any way."

"Is it so difficult to love more than one person?"

"Not like this! This is different!"

"The act of caring for another is not different. Love takes many forms, many facets, like the colors in the pool here. Each hue is different and unique, yet all are beautiful and all create the fabric of who we are."

Ginny stared into the pool, pondering the words.

Elora continued, "As nymphs, we are separate from the wizards, yet are bound to them by the fabric of the world. They need us, often to grow beyond what they are. Someday, the world of men and wizards will become great, but their ways are still young." Ginny understood that Elora was referring to her as well.

"Nymphs live for many centuries, my dear. Over that time, we fall in love many times. It is our blessing and our curse," the nymph explained.

Ginny looked at her with tear filled eyes. The thought of living for centuries, of watching all those she loved grow old and die while she lived on was an overwhelming concept.

"Each love is precious," her mentor continued, "and to physically show our love is a way that wizards understand and accept. It is not viewed in the way of your world, because we cannot be a part of that world. We give our hearts to these wizards who seek our help and a part of them stays in our hearts always. Some move on to grow in their lives, wiser. Some escape with us, and we watch them grow old and die here. Each time, we feel the pain of parting but we nymphs need them as much as they need us."

"But, why?" Ginny asked. "Why do we connect with them? It's so confusing and losing them hurts so very much."

Elora understood Ginny's meaning. Ginny would be apart from her family. Losing loved ones to death was never easy, even for a nymph.

"We need them to keep us grounded, my young one. It would be too easy to separate from them otherwise. We need to understand, to truly care for them as part of the world. We are greater in magic, but our hearts are still the same. "

"But you don't interfere. You have all this power, but you don't interfere. I mean, I have all this power. I could help my family with a wave of my hand but I'm not allowed. We allow them to see the power, but they can't be part of it. "

"We cannot, it would be immoral. You are children, growing in knowledge that can only come with time. There are a few of you who can reach beyond the barrier, which is why you are with us, my dear. But your lessons are for you alone to learn. We can provide comfort when asked, and some wisdom, if you choose to listen, and then take it back with you. Ultimately, the knowledge is the power."

"But I have no wisdom. I don't know anything, yet you assigned him to me."

"You have lessons that you can learn together. He would not have listened otherwise. He came here seeking power, not joy."

"Now he doesn't. He knows he can't use this power. That's why he was willing to leave."

"No, he was willing to leave, even seeing the power here, rather than risk causing you pain. The same pain you seem determined to suffer now."

"And what about me? What do I do? You say I'm learning from him but I don't know what it is, other than that I seem to be attracted to him."

"You have given him a gift and your gift gave you power. "

"Oh, is that what you call it?"

"Child, would you have cared about him only a short time ago? Would you have been able to look past his flaws to see the person within?"

"No."

"By being willing to give part of yourself to him, someone you once despised, your ability to love has grown. You've reached beyond your past barriers. The love you shared has allowed you to access power through him. You are joined to him in a very special way now."

"Please don't tell me I have to sleep with every evil being out there to reach my full potential,"

Elora laughed, "No, little one. Love takes on many expressions, just as the love you know for your family led you to sacrifice to come to us. As you grow, you will understand. "

"Oh, I hope so, Elora. You wouldn't know how long that will take, would you?"

Her mentor laughed again, the gentle joy of the nymph causing the colors of the enchanted area to dance in unison. Ginny noticed this, and realized that she still had far to go.

"He does care for you, you know. Your actions were not wrong."

"I know. I care for him too." Ginny was surprised by her own admission. He had become important to her.

"Do not regret your actions, my dear. Your gift will eventually bring you much joy."

Ginny brightened slightly, though her doubts still remained. At least Elora had been willing to enlighten her that much. The nymph was wise and she seemed to know the future, but shared her knowledge sparingly, leaving Ginny somewhat frustrated. Yet, the elder's advice had seemed sound, and Ginny willed herself to trust her.

- - - -

A/N – Hello dear readers. I know I've been quick with the updates, but I'm afraid it will be at least a week or two before chapter 13 comes along. There are 2 reasons, first, I'll be traveling and not sure if I'll have internet access for a few days, and second, chapter 13 is only partially written, although later chapters are ready to go.

Again, any help with beta of this chapter is appreciated. I know it needs work.

Thanks

-G


	13. Chapter 13 Lessons

Draco had no chance to return to the forest as Carrow kept him busy for the next week, making certain that every waking moment was filled with either school work or prefect duty.

As had now become a custom, he gave Longbottom a curt nod as they walked into detention on Friday evening and the Gryffindor gave him a grateful nod in response. Both boys entered the empty classroom expecting the usual game of faked torture curses. They'd both become rather accomplished actors over the months as a result.

Unfortunately, Neville hadn't always been so lucky as to have Draco oversee his detention, as he now bore more than a few scars from his time under Carrow's tutelage.

As Neville took his place, he looked at Draco blankly, awaiting his usual fate. A few moments later, a third year Hufflepuff girl entered the room, looking small and frightened. Draco became concerned, as he hadn't had the opportunity to signal to the girl about his usual ruse.

Carrow ignored the girl, his attention much more focused on the quiet student who had recently become the most troublesome boy in Hogwarts. "Ah, Mr. Longbottom," Carrow said, his voice dripping with the usual amount of menace. "Back again, I see."

Neville said nothing but remained staring stonily ahead of him. Draco couldn't help but notice the quiet strength that seemed to emanate from the other boy.

Carrow continued his taunts, "I am growing quite tired of our little lessons. You seem to enjoy these sessions far too much. Perhaps, we should try a different tactic this evening."

Longbottom said nothing as he continued to stare at the front of the room, defying the teacher. He was clearly braced, expecting something very painful to hit him very shortly.

Draco felt sorry for him.

The feeling didn't last long as Carrow suddenly turned his wand on Draco with a nasty stinging hex. Not quite as horrible as the razor sharp daggers of a Crucio, but immobilizing nonetheless. Draco gasped in surprise and pain as he fell to the floor, catching the look of shock on Longbottom's face.

The Hufflepuff gasped in fear, looking as if she was going to cry. He turned to her and commanded, "Wait outside," and the girl scrambled out as quickly as her legs could carry her. Carrow chuckled, and reached down to take Draco's wand.

"It appears that some students have learned to obey," he said, sneering. "It's a shame I don't have another appropriate student in here this evening for you, Mr. Longbottom. Mr. Malfoy will have to volunteer for your lesson," Carrow said casually. His tone then changed to a command, "Get up."

Draco was slowly pulling himself to his feet as Neville rose and slowly moved toward the front of the room.

"I've decided to change my approach with you, Mr. Longbottom," Carrow continued.

Draco caught the look of uncertainty in the other boy's eyes, knowing quite well that Carrow's tone did not seem to bode well for either of them.

Carrow looked disdainfully at Draco as he stared hatefully back at the teacher. Looking back to Neville, he continued, "You have a chance right now to return the many favors given to you over the months by Mr. Malfoy. I would like you to practice on him, perhaps being on the other side of a curse might awaken something interesting, hmm?"

Neville continued to stare emptily at the man. Draco internally gave the boy credit. Carrow was a difficult man to ignore and Longbottom was doing a phenomenal job of it. He knew it irked Carrow to no end.

"You will look at me when I address you, Mr. Longbottom!" Carrow snarled.

Neville only gave him a slight glance in acknowledgment. "You will perform every curse I command on Mr. Malfoy."

At this, both boys looked at him in surprise. Carrow laughed wickedly. "Unless you prefer that you and I take turns practicing on the girl..." he said, motioning to the doorway where the Hufflepuff waited. The flash of emotion that crossed Neville's face gave Carrow the expected answer.

"Come now, Longbottom. I wish to show you that I am a fair man. You see, Mr. Malfoy has been hiding something. Something we both want to know. We have an opportunity to find out the information together, a collaboration, if you will."

As he said this, he walked over to Neville, casually placing a hand on the tall boy's shoulder in a condescending gesture. He lowered his voice conspiratorially, "I'm sure you are aware that he's been involved in the disappearance of your little Weasley friend. Didn't you escort her to the Yule Ball some years back?"

He paused and gave a false smile to Draco, who stood frozen in place, feeling quite compelled to run from the classroom. Once again, Draco felt some admiration for how Longbottom so stoically and willingly walked into detention time and again. Being at the end of Carrow's discipline was, at best, unnerving.

He saw Neville twitch at Carrow's words. The demon had hit on a sensitive topic.

"He also seems to be claiming some responsibility in the explosion over the holidays that put two other Weasleys in St. Mungos."

Draco saw Neville's hand tighten on his wand.

"Now, dear boy. Wouldn't you like to know for certain whether or not he's harmed that poor girl? Her family must be beside themselves with worry."

Draco watched as anger flashed in Neville's eyes, and Carrow began to chuckle.

Carrow turned his back an walked toward a chair at the front of the room. Draco stared straight into the other boy's eyes and gave a slight shake of his head, "no".

As fast as the anger appeared, it dissipated from Neville's face. He understood. Whether he understood that Draco was innocent, or that Carrow was using his anger to corrupt him in some way, Draco wasn't sure, but as Carrow issued the orders, Draco saw that Neville tried his best to execute the spells with a bit less malice. While Carrow was turned away, Neville mouthed the words, "I'm sorry."

Unfortunately, to truly be able to fake a spell takes practice, and Neville had had little opportunity for that.

Longbottom had no desire to curse him, and it showed in the weakness of each curse. While that was painful and certainly undesirable, he could endure. Unfortunately, Carrow took great pleasure in demonstrating how to properly cast the same curses, and his overzealous venom made each hit particularly painful. With his wand taken away, he had no ability to defend himself.

Neville, on the other hand, seemed desperate to try something against Carrow. The Death Eater was ready for him, however, and at a perfectly timed moment, decided to reintroduce the fourth year girl that had been sharing their detention. After Carrow demonstrated a curse on her, Neville could only continue to do as he was told.

It quickly became obvious, that attempting to torture another student was far worse on the Gryffindor than being on the receiving end of those same curses. Carrow delighted in that, freely demonstrating his art repeatedly, on both Draco and the girl, each time he failed.

By the end of the night, Draco had started to taunt the other boy, teasing him as mercilessly as he'd done in past years, if only to draw the attention away from the girl in the room, who was nearly unconscious after only a few spells.

Draco hoped that Snape might once again intervene. It seemed that he had frequently taken to interrupting Carrow's detentions, but that night they weren't so lucky. At the end of the hour, Draco could barely stand.

Carrow dismissed them, a greasy smile on his lips as he bid them a pleasant evening, and Draco left, using every ounce of energy to appear unaffected by the pain that seemed to reside in every muscle and joint of his body.

"How is she?" he asked Longbottom, as soon as they were out of earshot, referring to the girl, still crying uncontrollably as she clutched Neville's side.

"Not too bad. He only hit her the three times. I'm taking her to Pomfrey now, just to be sure, maybe get her a sleeping draught."

Draco nodded, glancing around to make certain that their conversation wasn't being noticed by anyone.

"Good. I'll leave her to you, then. Better that way."

"You made me hate you in there, again. How do you do that?"

"Not hard, Longbottom. You have a way about you. Thought you knew that by now."

Neville looked at him oddly, causing Draco to snort in ironic laughter. "Even at your worst, your spells were easier to take than Carrow's. It was self preservation."

The other boy nodded, looking as if he'd come to the conclusion that Draco was barking mad. "Are you coming with us to the infirmary?"

Draco shook his head. Carrow would enjoy seeing weakness. It was the one place he couldn't go. The idea of returning to his dorm was also rather unsavory. He needed someplace safe, to rest and heal.

"Carrow will look for me there. Take care Longbottom. Let's not do this again, shall we?"

Not waiting for a reply, he walked toward the doors of the castle, looking for all the world as if he was only going out for a casual stroll. It was only after he was sure he was out of sight that he began to allow his body to respond the the overwhelming pain.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ -

It was early evening still, the sun's last rays having passed well into twilight. Ginny watched the last light fade from the sky feeling restless.

It had been a long week, full of lessons from the other nymphs, and not once had her studies been interrupted by a visit from him. She'd partly expected that, as he had said it might be difficult for him to get away for a while, but still, she was disappointed.

Her reason for being among the nymphs had never gone far from her mind. She'd stopped asking questions, as the answers were always evasive, and usually included the words "Be patient" or "You will know in time". It was so very frustrating.

It was that frustration that seemed to keep her from progressing any further, or so she gathered from the cryptic teachings of her elders. The life of a nymph was to be in harmony with all things but Ginny found it difficult to let go and embrace that aspect while a large part of her heart clung to the worry she still had about the fate of her family.

There was always more to do, it seemed. Part of her learning process was to study the life around her. Even in the winter, the forest teemed with life to be observed and studied. When she wasn't studying, she had actually spent time with Tenere and the centaurs, learning their ways. It was interesting, but she still had failed to understand how lessons were supposed to help her in her quest.

Ginny was busy with such lessons whenever Draco was away.

He'd been away all week.

This day had been little different from any other. She'd spent the day with Reya, watching a number of creatures in their winter hibernation and studying how they fit into the cycle of the living forest. Ginny tried to appear interested, but her mind was far removed from the subject, lost in her own worries.

The two nymphs were wandering back to the enchanted spring to settle down for the night. They didn't always sleep there, sometimes they simply settled wherever in the forest they happened to be, but this had become Ginny's favorite spot during her months there, and now, with events of the last few weeks, she rarely wanted to be anywhere else.

"You appear pensive," Reya stated. Ginny always was amused with the odd speech patterns of her new sister nymphs. They were much older than she and their speech patterns were from at least a century ago.

"I'm fine. Just missing my family and all..."

"You miss your wizard friend. I understand," Reya replied knowingly as she wove a hammock for herself from the nearby tree branches.

"It's not necessary to tease me about him. I get enough of that from Callista," Ginny groused. "Besides," she continued, "I have much more important things to be worrying about. I still haven't found what I need to help my family."

"No, but I think you are getting close," Reya responded.

Ginny was snuggling down under her mossy blanket, she didn't need the covers, as she was always quite comfortably warm, but she loved the feeling of being cuddled under something. Reya's words took her by surprise.

"You know what I need?" Ginny asked, her tone almost accusing. She understood Elora being cryptic, but she hadn't expected the same from the younger nymph who'd become her closest friend.

"I shouldn't be telling you," Reya began, but Ginny looked at her with pleading eyes. Reya sighed and continued. "I have seen the future as well. There are ripples in the fabric of the near future, nothing definite, but it is a beginning. You are on the right path."

"But I haven't done anything, Reya! I feel so hopeless and frustrated and Elora only talks in riddles," Ginny said, pouting.

"You've accomplished much without even realizing. You are falling in love..."

Ginny stared at her friend, her mouth dropping open in shock. "I am not! And even if I were, it has nothing whatsoever to do with fighting to save my family."

Reya ignored her comment and continued, a teasing smile as she spoke, "I see when he comes here how he brightens at the thought of seeing you. You always talk about fighting, yet love is so much more powerful of a force."

"You sound just like Elora," Ginny grumbled.

"Thank you," Reya replied happily. "She is my mother after all. I hope to be just like her someday."

"I didn't know she was your mother," Ginny replied. "I mean, I know she's quite old, but she looks so young. I never thought of nymphs having children."

Her friend smiled back at her, "How do you think we come to exist?"

"Well, there's me..."

"You are quite an unusual case, my friend," she said. "As you can see, it's very, very difficult to leave everything behind. But there is a purpose for you, although Elora hasn't chosen to share that with me."

"I can't imagine what kind of purpose I could possibly have. I'm nothing important."

Reya just smiled as she bedded down in her hammock, "You are quite important to many beings, Ginny. Never underestimate that."

Ginny just sighed, wished her friend a goodnight and curled up for a troubled sleep.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ -

She awoke in the middle of the night, feeling restless and troubled. Unable to shake the feeling, she got up quietly so as not to disturb her sleeping friend. Wandering over to the pool, she sat at the edge, dipping her toes into the cool water. Snow had started to fall, turning the area into a crystal-like palace in the moonlight.

The tranquil scene did nothing for her mood, as she felt even more anxious as she sat. Something was amiss, but she couldn't quite place what it was. Immediately, her thoughts went to her family, although she knew that she was wasting her time and energy worrying but that didn't stop her.

She took Draco's cloak and wrapped it around herself, hoping to draw some comfort from the familiar scent of him that lingered on the garment. She settled on the rock and watched the snow fall, feeling more than a little foolish as she thought of Reya's insinuation.

"It's nice to see that my cast-offs are coming to good use," she heard a male voice say from behind her, making her jump in surprise. She'd been so lost in her own thoughts that she'd failed to notice him entering the area, which was unusual, as she normally knew as soon as he entered the forest.

Then she reminded herself that it was the middle of the night and she hadn't been paying attention because it was an extremely odd hour for him to visit. Before she could question him about what he was doing there, she took in his appearance.

He stood at the top of the knoll, leaning almost casually against the large oak gateway back to the wizard's world, his hair dirty and mussed. His clothing was torn in several places, showing gashes on his arms and torso. There were circles under his eyes, but more than all that, he looked completely defeated.

Tossing the cloak aside, she got up and ran to him.

"What happened?"

He just shook his head in response, shifting to move away from the tree. He immediately stumbled, too weak to stand. She immediately moved to wrap his arm around her shoulders to support him as they walked toward the spring to sit down. Weaving a washcloth quickly, she began to clean the blood away from the worst of the cuts.

"Who did this to you?" she demanded.

"It doesn't matter. He didn't have much of a choice. It was me, or a little girl. Even I can't blame him for the choice."

"Who!" she demanded again. He was so unaccustomed to hearing her voice that the forceful tone of her question surprised him.

"Longbottom," he said tiredly.

She pulled back, shocked. "Neville did this to you? Why?"

He almost smiled, realizing that she probably assumed that he'd provoked the other student into some sort of altercation. "It was Carrow. He decided that Longbottom was getting immune to being on the receiving end of curses in detention. He ordered him to work on me, to see what would happen. If he refused, it would have looked suspicious, and Carrow threatened at one point to use a third year girl for target practice if he refused."

Ginny sat back, thinking for a moment, "Neville was going to refuse to curse you?"

He almost wanted to smile at her insinuation that Neville refusing to curse him was more shocking than him actually doing the act. If he had any energy, he might have laughed, as it was, it took most of his effort simply to speak. "We have a bit of an agreement. I've been throwing fake curses at him all year," he said, managing to work up a small and rather satisfied smirk.

She gave a small chuckle. "That's the strangest thing I've ever heard."

"Yes, well, I'm going to pull him aside and give him some advice on practicing in the future," he said snidely, but then wobbled, looking much like he was about to fall unconscious.

His light description belied how seriously he was hurt, making her slightly alarmed. She had power to heal him, but no experience. "Stay here for a moment..." She darted over to Reya's sleeping form, waking her friend.

The two nymphs helped him over to Ginny's alcove, and settled him on the soft ground. As he watched the nymph work to heal him, he once again saw the area glow with magic before he lost consciousness.

-----

When he awoke, it was well after dawn. It took him several moments to register that he was in the forest. The bedding beneath him and the blanket over him were as luxurious as anything he'd ever had in his own home. He tried to move his head, but as soon as he lifted it from the soft pillow, he felt an ache.

"Don't get up," he heard Ginny's voice softly tell him, and felt her hand gently push him back down. He felt inclined to agree with her instruction and only nodded as he closed his eyes again.

"What happened?" he finally asked.

"You collapsed. I had to ask Reya to heal you. You'll be alright, but you need to rest."

He nodded again, then, remembered her sympathy during his first meeting with her, when he'd been thrown across the clearing. Experimentally, he gave a small groan although he was feeling quite well, compared to how he felt when he'd first arrived. Her reaction was exactly as he'd expected.

"Oh..." she said, gently running her hand over his head in a soothing manner. He had to suppress a small smirk. "If I ever get a chance to repay Carrow for this..." she said threateningly.

"He's alright Ginny. He's playing you for sympathy," he heard Reya's voice cheerfully call from the gateway area. He no longer liked her friend as much, even if she did cure him of the aftereffects of his recent torture session.

"Must she spoil what little enjoyment I could get out of this?" he grumbled. Ginny scoffed, responding by giving him a light slap.

Reya joined them, laughing lightly as she settled nearby. He watched her give Ginny a quick lesson on how to use her magic to check his health. He was enjoying the attention from both beautiful nymphs quite well when a disturbing thought suddenly came to him, making him sit up abruptly.

"Did I hurt you?" Ginny asked, jumping back from touching him.

"No, I just realized, I wasn't very careful about being followed. He was asking about you, Ginny. I didn't say anything, but he suspects..."

"He did, but I took care of it," Reya responded, a bit too casually for his liking.

He was confused, but noticed that Ginny didn't seem at all surprised as she added, "You are followed fairly frequently."

"I most certainly am not!"

Reya nodded in response. He felt an annoyed frown come over his face.

"Do not worry," Reya said. "I created a reflection of you. He thinks you are seated near the lake under one of the trees there."

"A reflection?"

Ginny nodded. "It's one of the tricks we use. Rather clever way of bending light to suit our needs. We can't be found, unless we want to be," she confirmed.

"That's why nobody believes anyone who comes back with a tale about nymphs?"

Reya nodded. "I think I'll go and give your follower a bit of a merry chase," she said with a mischievous grin. "By the time I'm done, he'll have no desire to follow you again."

"Thank you, I suppose," he said in response as the brown haired nymph happily danced off in the direction of the lake.

Ginny gave a smile and wave to her friend, then turned back to her charge and gave a small sigh.

"Are all the other nymphs so cheerful all the time?" he asked.

"Pretty much," she said.

"But you aren't," he continued, sitting up.

"No, I'm not, and they tease me about it quite frequently."

"Well, they don't seem to have the worries that we both do right now."

She nodded her head in agreement. "They say that, in time, I'll understand that it doesn't matter. I'm afraid I'm getting less cheerful by the day. I've got power that I'm not allowed to use and knowledge about a million things that have nothing to do with Voldemort or how to fight him. It's maddening."

Not sure of how to respond, since he found the lack of information equally maddening, he decided to change the subject.

"So how did you acquire the bedding. Last I recall, I only left you my cloak."

She looked at him, confused, "I don't understand."

He motioned to the soft chenille blanket. "The bedding... even I don't have anything this nice."

She laughed and he was glad to see it, as it was a rare occurrence. "That's moss."

He looked at it more closely, the soft green chenille material was indeed identifiable under closer inspection.

"But how?"

She motioned to her skirt and the pillow behind him. "We weave what we need."

He looked impressed. He'd noticed that, when touching her clothing, that it felt soft, unlike the rough greenery that it appeared to be fashioned from.

"But you still use my cloak," he said.

She looked shy, blushing slightly and he decided he liked that look very much. "I missed you," she said simply.

"Can't have that, can we?" he stated, reaching for her and pulling her close to him. Unable to resist any longer, he decided that kissing her was well in order. She complied willingly.

He pulled away after several minutes, once again feeling smug about himself, a feeling that he greatly preferred. She didn't miss the smirk on his face.

"You are the insufferable one, aren't you," she said condescendingly.

"Only when it suits my purpose," he agreed, pulling her back into a kiss, gently laying her back onto the soft bedding. He now knew exactly why many never returned after meeting a nymph. There were clearly benefits of never returning to the real world.

After a long while she pulled away, just as he thought things were getting to be very interesting.

"You should be resting," she said.

The pout he gave almost made her laugh out loud.

"Fine," was all he said as he dropped dramatically back onto the pillow. "But it's your fault I can't sleep now."

She laughed again, snuggling up beside him. "I'll keep you company."

"Hmmph," was his response.

"I'm sorry..." she said timidly and blushing furiously. She was still shy and he decided that it was a good moment to apply tact.

He pulled her close, enjoying the feel of her despite his uncomfortable state of arousal.

"You're uncomfortable," he said, feeling her nod in response. If it were any other girl, he likely would have already abandoned her in a temperamental huff, but this was his nymph and, despite himself, he found her to be worth some effort on his part. If she weren't he certainly would have been far less than respectful in the previous months.

"I don't have much time out here, you know. Eventually, they will miss me and I'll have to go back," he said, trying to persuade her out of her shyness. "Can you come back with me if I find a place to keep you hidden?"

Her demure smile faded with his question. "I can't..." she said sadly. "I can't go back inside again... ever."

It was now his turn to look confused. "Care to elaborate on that?" he asked.

"I can't be separated from the magic that holds life in the world together," she explained. "I'm part of that now."

It was true, she'd already tried to test what the others had told her. Her ability to be at harmony with the living things in the world that gave her unbelievable power was unfortunately, the limitation that kept her from returning to the inside walls of her old world. She'd tried once, a month or so ago. It had been a horrible experience.

She'd gone to the remains of Hagrid's old house, just to see someplace familiar. As soon as she set foot inside the stone structure she felt cut off, as if she had been severed from something vitally important. Feeling as if she couldn't breathe, she left the little hut. It was then that she came to understand that her magic was tied to the life of the world around her. Man made structures were dead to her, a barrier between her and the force that bound her very self together.

She got up and brought Draco's cloak over as an example. "You asked about the bedding, and my clothing and I told you that we weave it. It's more than that."

He looked intrigued, so she continued, "If you look at the material in your cloak, the fibers have been harvested and spun and weaved, but basically they've been brutally beaten into submission."

He looked affronted, as she apparently had just insulted his rather expensive cloak. She smiled in response and picked up the blanket, "This is different because we've basically asked the living thing that comprises this to do us a favor."

"It bends to your will?" he said, more than a bit surprised by her explanation.

"Not exactly. It's a request. The nymphs return the favor by binding magic where it's needed to help the forest recover from tragedy or Dark Magic. It's more like a symbiotic relationship."

For one of the few times in his life, he had nothing to say. It was almost beyond his comprehension.

"The nymphs can do anything, Draco. Anything they want. They can control the very fabric of life because they hold influence over the magic that binds it all together. Wizards don't have even a minute grasp of the concept. I may not understand for centuries, even though they gave me the ability."

"And they said they'd help you..." he started to say.

"They said my power was in knowledge. I can't use the smallest bit of the power to influence what's happening in the Wizarding world."

He felt his anger rise at her words. "Are you telling me, that they could stop Voldemort, and any war, with almost no effort but they refuse to do so?"

She nodded. She could see his anger and frustration, as she shared much of it but she was trapped in their rules, trying to understand, where he had the freedom to express his feelings on the matter.

She tried to stop him before his anger got out of hand, placing a hand on his arm to get his attention, she spoke firmly. "They look at interfering with wizards in the same way that the Ministry looks at interfering with Muggle conflicts and wars."

He dropped back onto the bedding with an exhausted grunt. Throwing his arm over his face, he spoke without looking at her, "So why are you here? What have you learned?"

"I don't know," she said sounding small and defeated. "And I'm almost out of time. I've had visions before I came here. I'm sure that the worst will happen this spring."

He sat back up, all thoughts of his earlier playfulness long gone. "Knowledge is power, you said," he echoed her earlier words.

"That's what they said, yes," she confirmed.

"I had been hoping that you would be the answer I needed, but you're no better off than I am," he said, his gaze unfocused as his thoughts had suddenly turned inward as he tried to think. "We're on our own, then."

"I'm afraid so," she confirmed again, albeit sadly.

"Maybe you've learned something, or there's something we can find with my knowledge and your perspective that might be the key to helping Potter win this thing," he said, half to himself.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

His gaze pulled back to focus on her. "What else have we got, Ginny? If we sit back and do nothing, Voldemort wins and our lives will both be hell. We can't sit here and wait for your nymph friends to give you the answer. If they haven't by now..."

She appeared as if a giant weight had been lifted from her. "You're going to help me," she muttered in disbelief.

"If you want to put it that way. I was thinking it was more of a symbiotic type of relationship," he said mimicking her earlier words with a teasing smirk.

Her face lit with joy and next he knew, she had tackled him in an exuberant hug. He caught her and held her as she pinned him to the ground, mumbling incoherent words of thanks into his neck. Unable to contain himself any longer, he wrapped his arms around her bare back in return.

Lecherous thoughts soon returned, as he broke the mood by saying, "Does that mean you are going to thank me properly now?"

She leaned up, still on top of him and smacked him lightly. "Prat," was all she said, although rather unconvincingly.

"You know I want you, Ginny, and you have to admit, all these months of teasing me haven't been exactly fair."

She looked surprised, then looked away, biting her lip. "I... I didn't realize..."

He pushed her hair away from hanging in his face, gently tucking the stray strand behind her ear. "I know."

Looking back up at him, she took in his handsome features, then gave him a soft kiss. "It's just a bit much, you know?"

"Well, let's just sleep on it for a bit, and we'll take things a little more slowly, yeah?" he said, pulling her next to him. "I'm supposed to be sleeping, remember?"

She smiled, then buried her face in his neck, nodding. "Good," he said. He really was quite tired, apparently needing time to heal from his recent ordeal. Pulling his nymph close, he pulled the soft blanket over them both and they fell into a peaceful slumber.


	14. Chapter 14 The Key

He came back the next day with his familiar satchel of books, only this time, they were filled with reference manuals from the library instead of his usual school work.

Neither was quite certain where to begin, each settling down with a few books each and idly flipping through.

"I have no idea what to look for," she finally grumbled. Her frustration with the lack of direction in their search putting her in a rather foul mood.

"Just start with protections spells. Voldemort seems obsessed with putting up wards to defend himself."

"How do you know that?"

He looked up, slightly surprised. "I thought you knew," he said uncertainly.

"Knew what?"

"That Voldemort has been living at Malfoy Manor since the summer. I've had the luxury of seeing some of his idiosyncrasies firsthand."

Her eyes narrowed at him in anger and suspicion. "I thought you said that you and your family weren't loyal to him anymore."

Her accusation hurt. He realized that she had no idea what his parents were going through, how they had been ridiculed and betrayed. However, she was quite aware that he was here looking for a way out, yet she had the audacity to be angry with him.

"It's not like they have a choice," he said angrily.

"We all have a choice, Draco," she started to say, but he cut her off.

"So you are saying that because your family didn't make the mistake my father made, they are better."

"Of course not, it's just that..."

"That's exactly what you are saying," he interrupted again.

She was silent, looking slightly guilty at her burst of anger.

"I may dislike your family, Ginny, but you love them for a reason. My family is the same, you may disagree with them, even hate them, but I do love them and they have just as much value to me as yours does to you."

His rant finished, he turned back to his book. He was angry with her, but fortunately not angry enough to leave.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Hmmph," he grumbled, continuing to look at his book.

Annoyed, she flopped down beside him and began leafing though another one of his books. He was right and they both knew it. Unfortunately, they were both frustrated, and she realized it was best if they both just stopped speaking for a little while.

It wasn't long before she realized that he wasn't really reading his book but looking around the glade at the pool and the crystal-like waterfall. He was obviously deep in thought. She moved closer to him and he absently started to play with her hair. Apparently, he'd moved on from their disagreement. The two were silent for several minutes, looking at the tranquil scene.

Eventually, he broke the silence. "What do the other nymphs think of wizards?" he asked absently, his gaze still looking out at the magical clearing.

"They call us children."

"Really," he said, his tone sounding contemplative.

She wondered if she was free to share this information, but then decided that it didn't matter. "They seem to think that we don't have a proper level of comprehension of the world to handle the magic that exists in this realm."

He looked a little affronted but then responded, "How odd."

"That's what I thought. But, after a while, I realized that it's almost the same way that wizards look at Muggles. They think we're inferior, just like we think Muggles are."

The statement made him look back to her in surprise. He thought about her words for a moment, then asked, "Is that why you only seem to have access to parts of the power that the others have?"

"I think so. They seem to feel that as I learn my lessons, I earn the ability to access more."

"So, what kinds of things have you learned?"

"That's what I don't know. They are quite vague, always talking about the greater Way of things. Love is very important to them. They don't harbor ill will toward anyone, even Voldemort. To them, anything that happens in our world is insignificant, at least on an individual basis. They care more about the direction of our society as a whole."

"Fascinating, I suppose. But then, why you? Why do they seem to care about what happens to you?"

"They are guides. They are open to helping people. When I came here, I was desperate. I'd seen a vision, a view of the future where most of my family was dead as a result of some sort of battle that is supposed to take place at Hogwarts. I didn't know what to do and I came here and begged for help. They gave me a choice, to stay in my old life or, by coming here and learning from them, I'd have the opportunity to alter the events."

"And how do I come into the picture?"

"You came here looking for help too, though you didn't know that's what you were asking for at the time. They assigned me to you as a challenge."

He laughed. "So was I?"

"Were you what?"

"Enough of a challenge for you? If I'd known at the time, I would have made it more of a game."

"As if trying to communicate with you without the ability to speak wasn't interesting enough," she groused.

"I kind of liked you that way."

She gave him a half hearted snarl. "It was probably a good thing, I agree. I really had the urge to say some very nasty things to you. I don't think that it would have helped in us getting along."

"So, no more urges to say horrible things to me?" He smiled, putting down his book and wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Oh, I have plenty of urges, Mr. Malfoy. I just have sufficiently grown to be able to contain them better," she replied, trying to sound haughty, as she allowed him to pull her closer.

"And what kind of urges are you talking about, nymph?" he asked, as his lips came dangerously close to hers.

"If you'd like a list..." She smiled, but didn't get a chance to complete the sentence, because his kiss caused her to abandon the thought.

x - x

Draco lay awake in his bed. He was having some difficulty concentrating on his classes and had barely gotten through the day without drawing too much attention to himself.

His thoughts kept drifting back to the previous evening and his time spent with his lovely nymph. So much had happened in the last twenty four hours that he was having some difficulty processing it all. Not that simply sleeping with a girl was all that difficult for him to fathom, although in this case she was a nymph and ...

It was far more than that.

The world she had opened up to him was absolutely beyond his imagination. It was probably what the first Muggles felt when they found out their world was not flat, or when the first wizard opened up the portal to the magical realm. The place that was the world of the nymphs was beyond the reach of a normal wizard, as much as Diagon Alley was beyond the reach of a Muggle.

From the moment that Ginny had brought him to the Enchanted world, he had been slowly awakened to the knowledge that wizards were as inferior to these beings as a Muggle was to himself.

It made him feel decidedly small.

On another note, Ginny Weasley was now one of them. Part of him was extremely jealous.

His mind gnawed on the new found realization and it kept him from sleeping that night. It kept him from caring about just about anything, actually. He was inferior. He'd never imagined such a possibility. Even while enduring the taunts of Carrow and Nott, he'd only felt infuriated, but never, ever inferior. His mind could barely wrap around the concept.

So, he spent the night tossing in his bed restlessly as he tried to re-evaluate his place in this new version of the world.

By the time dawn came the next morning he had reached a conclusion, and he found that it was quite satisfying. He had decided that Carrow and Nott, and the Dark Lord for that matter, could stick their superiority complex someplace extremely unpleasant because Draco Malfoy once again knew his place in the universe.

He'd been granted access to a world far beyond the Dark Lord's twisted magic and he knew it. None of the others were given access to the world of the Enchanted, yet he, Draco Malfoy, had been chosen for that honor. The nymphs knew far more than anything the Dark Lord could possibly fathom and the Enchanted beings had chosen Draco over the half-blooded dark wizard. Better yet, he had found Ginny Weasley as his prize, and he was quite happy with that honor.

x- x

She studied endlessly. Whenever he came and brought more books, and she used all her free time to study as she'd never studied before, hoping to find some solution to match her magic with something from their studies to get the answer to protect their families.

She spent little time with her nymph friends, all of whom smiled indulgently at her efforts. Elora and the others still attempted to guide her, but they did not discourage her research, so she assumed that she was on the right path. When she did talk to them, it was the usual stuff that they preached, full of the carefree laughter that they seemed to enjoy so much. They encouraged her to make sure that she took the time to enjoy her life while in pursuit of her seemingly hopeless quest.

She tried to listen, and she tried to relax, yet she got no further. Her growth in powers had seemed to stall, if anything. She could still control basic weather but the elusive views of time that Elora often talked about were far from her ability. When she expressed frustration, Elora only told her that she had much to learn and would remind her of opening her heart.

Her heart seemed open only when Draco came on his visits. He was now her partner, as well as her lover and friend. They were united in finding a way to solve the puzzle so that their respective families could have a future.

"You need someone smarter than me," she said, pushing another book aside in tired frustration. It seemed to be getting more and more tedious to try to absorb the material on some of the Dark magic described in the texts. Some of the methods simply made no sense to her.

"Perhaps, but you're prettier to look at."

She scowled. He was teasing her again and, unfortunately, it didn't help her confidence in her intelligence at the moment. "I'm sure one of the other nymphs would be happy to help you. Callista has made it quite clear that she fancies you."

He appeared to think about it a moment, then responded casually. "I still like you. You understand me. It would take too long to train another one."

"Well, thank you, I suppose."

He leaned over and kissed her nose. "I thought nymphs were supposed to be above petty jealousy."

"They are, but, as we've already ascertained, I seem to have a long way to go."

"Well, now there's an area we can start in, maybe."

She gave him the most evil look she could muster, but seeing the underlying humor in his remark, she failed miserably. She was actually fond of him, even though he enjoyed teasing her mercilessly. She turned back to her book, trying to make sense of the puzzle it presented.

"This doesn't make sense," she said, trying to change the topic back to her source of frustration.

"What doesn't?" he asked, moving to lie next to her, looking over her shoulder, pausing to lay a brief kiss there before looking at the book in her hands.

"These passages here. You say Voldemort uses these spells to protect himself, and that they are supposedly unbreakable, but they don't make sense."

"How is that?"

"It contradicts everything I've been taught about the power here. It isolates one from the rest. By everything I've learned here, it shouldn't work. One gains the power by being part of the whole, not isolating from it."

"Maybe it's a different kind of power."

She shook her head. "No. There's only one. The only difference between wizards and Enchanteds is the conduit used to get to it."

"Then how is it that the spell is so powerful to him?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm confused. It seems that a lot of the Dark Magic in these books should be inherently weak. I mean, most of them involve something horrible to gain access to the power. It goes against everything that I've learned."

"Maybe we've found our clue then."

They turned and looked at each other, hope reflecting in each other's eyes.


	15. Chapter 15 Storm on the Horizon

A/N - I think this is one of my favorite chapters! It's got a bit of everything... including skinny dipping in the enchanted pool :)

x - x

Draco managed to endure his classes and his classmates throughout the remaining weeks of winter. As the season finally began to change to spring, he and Ginny had finally managed to make progress on their joint project.

What they'd discovered was that Voldemort's strength came from pulling magic from the area around himself. While the magic initially appeared to be more powerful, it would eventually fade as the Dark Magic drained the surrounding area of its life force. It was an amazing discovery. Draco had even been able to confirm their theory using some Arithmancy calculations. When he showed Ginny confirmation of the results, they practically danced around the clearing in celebration.

After that, their research turned to the task of identifying spells that could be used to prevent the Dark Magic from drawing its power, particularly spells that would protect or shield a potential source of magic. It hadn't been easy. In part, they had to understand how to dissect some of the darker spells, then find appropriate measures to isolate how the spell sapped power from the surrounding area. After finding that, they began working on counter spells to sever the connection.

It was long and tedious work, yet, Draco found himself enjoying the task and enjoying his nymph partner. His relationship with Ginny had only solidified during their time together, both physically and emotionally. Unfortunately, it only made his time within the confines of the castle seem longer because he seemed to be able to concentrate on little else.

Ginny's vision had shown that the final battle would be at Hogwarts, but also Bill's statement months ago about the Divining lines that ran under and around the school grounds seemed to confirm that, indeed, the school was key in Voldemort's plans.

Which was how Draco found himself in the library, in the midst of a rare study session, waiting for an opportunity to sneak into the restricted section to gather a text on those very divining lines, and, hopefully, how one might draw power from them. Unfortunately, sneaking into the restricted section was a difficult thing to do these days. Draco had little trouble managing it in the past, but that was the past, when he had accomplices who could create appropriate distractions.

Without anyone to assist, he had to be more clever, he reasoned. So, he'd settled himself in an appropriate location and decided to determine if there was any pattern to Madam Pince's librarian activities that might benefit him. After only an hour or so of analyzing, he felt he might have identified the ideal opportunity. Unfortunately, only moments before he was ready to make his move, Pansy flounced up to him, completely blocking his view, and subsequently destroying his plan by draping herself across the table.

"Where have you been hiding, Draco? I've been missing you terribly," she said, completely ignoring the look of irritation on his face at her interruption.

Her blouse was unbuttoned just far enough to let him know how much she'd been missing him. He raised an eyebrow in question.

"I've been busy, Pansy. I thought we'd already discussed this."

She looked annoyed. "You promised you'd keep me involved in your fun. Don't tell me that you've forgotten me."

Quite truthfully, he had. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking as superior as possible. "I believe I said I'd let you know **if**I needed your help. I actually have everything working according to plan, as if you expected less of me."

Pansy looked surprised, but decided to push her luck with him. "I only expect the best from you. You know that, why do you think I stood up for you when the others had written you off."

Her voice was starting to get on his nerves. He briefly wondered what he'd ever seen in the girl to actually have wanted her at one time. He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"Pans, I've got work to do..."

"You always have work to do," she said, pouting in what she apparently thought was an attractive way. "You need to take a break sometime. All work and no play isn't good for you." She emphasized the statement by leaning further over the table, making sure he got full view of her ample cleavage.

He was at a loss for how to get rid of her easily. He no longer had interest in the girl, but he couldn't afford to piss her off. She might not be a friend, but she had at least been willing to not be an enemy and it was not in his best interest to add her to the long list of the latter.

Tact was what was needed but he lacked the patience for that. She'd lost interest in Nott, so sending her in that direction would be useless. He had little else for ideas and silently chastised himself for not planning for this possible scenario.

He was saved from his situation by a loud noise as none other than Neville Longbottom chose that moment to come crashing spectacularly against the table, apparently having tripped over the bag Pansy had left in the aisle, sending her books and his belongings flying in every direction.

Madam Pince looked up in alarm and came marching toward the table as Pansy started screeching at the clumsy boy for his stupidity. In the brief moment that both Madam Pince and Pansy were distracted by helping to pick up the scattered belongings, Neville looked directly at Draco and gave a slight shake of his head in the direction of the restricted section. Draco didn't hesitate, slipping away from the table as Neville created further commotion by clumsily helping to assist, making a bigger mess in the process.

Draco hurried down the aisle, grabbing for the two books he needed as quickly as possible, taking care to make sure that Neville was effectively continuing to keep the two witches involved in an escalating argument as he accused Pansy of deliberately tripping him.

By the time Pince had evicted Neville from the library, Draco was already out the door. He glanced back just long enough to see Pansy looking about for him, not yet aware that he'd made his escape. He waited outside the door until Neville came out looking rather pleased with himself.

"Nice work," Draco said.

The Gryffindor gave him a curt nod. "Thanks."

"Hope you didn't get another detention," he replied, as both started to walk down the hallway together.

"Nah. I don't think I've done anything to annoy her in ages, and she's a little reluctant to hand out detention this year."

"Good. I don't think I can survive another night of your curses," Draco commented dryly.

"I've been meaning to say that I'm really sorry about that," Neville replied.

Draco shook off the remark apparently carelessly. "I survived."

"Care to tell me what you needed in there?"

"Not particularly," Draco replied. "You can consider us even for the curses."

"Just tell me that I didn't help you do something evil," Neville persisted.

Draco stopped, looked his former adversary straight in the eye and said, "You have my word."

And for some inexplicable reason, Neville believed him.

x - x

Delayed for a few days by a busy schedule, Draco had remained in a good mood. Longbottom's unlikely aid and the subsequent success of his mission left him feeling almost cheerful. Almost.

He had been finally able to break away and loaded his books into his leather satchel, looking forward to a visit to his nymph. As he donned his cloak and walked eagerly out of the Great Hall, he heard his name being called. He turned to see Professor Snape, looking particularly grim.

An hour later, Draco entered the relative cover of the forest and promptly lost whatever appearance of calm he'd been maintaining since he left the castle. By the time he reached the clearing, he was practically stumbling.

Desperately looking around, he hoped that she would appear quickly. He let out an audible sigh of relief when she arrived only moments later.

Seeing he was distressed, she ran up to him to give him a hug and was surprised by the force of his returned embrace. Almost immediately, he tightened his hold on her and kissed her, quickly moving from her lips to her neck, shoulders and downward.

She wanted to ask what had brought on this desperate passion but there was no time. He was far too focused on his need for her and she found herself willing to help him.

Pushing her up against a large oak near the gateway, he hurriedly moved aside only enough clothing to accomplish his task. He buried himself into her willing body, holding her tightly, as if his life depended on it.

He clung to her after, still leaning against the tree, as if every last bit of strength had left his body. She held onto him tightly in return, waiting for him to recover enough to speak. He had given no indication about what had happened that would provoke his unusual behavior, not that being physically intimate with him was unusual, but never had he been so urgent or selfish in his actions.

She didn't say a word, both of them silent as he finally pulled away from her, looking down, as if he was unsure of his next action. She took his hand and quietly guided him past the gateway and into the Enchanted world, hoping that she might be able to at least bring him to the place where he might find enough peace to be able to voice his problem.

The glade was in its usual cheerful state, glowing with magic, the waterfall creating a tinkling, almost musical sound. Unicorns were at the pool, creating a setting that was even more tranquil than usual. Ginny was grateful for their presence, feeling that she needed all the help she could get to help calm her troubled partner. She stripped off her dress and took a step into the water, motioning for him to follow.

Watching her intently, he divested himself of his own clothing, and followed her in.

Both swam for a bit, taking in the serenity of the enchanted glade. After a few minutes, he captured the nymph and pulled her into another embrace. His gaze, however, was unfocused, as if he were looking somewhere in the distance. She moved one hand to lightly touch the side of his face, drawing his attention back to her.

"What's wrong?" she asked when he finally met her gaze. He only shook his head. He wasn't yet ready to talk. He only turned to look over at the scene at the other end of the pool that was filled with peaceful unicorns.

"It would be so easy to stay here and leave all of it behind," he finally said, almost wishfully.

She was shocked by his words. He had never made any indication of wanting to stay with her, not that they had ever really broached the subject. Not wanting to influence him, she chose her words carefully. "It's not so easy to leave everything, but I won't deny that it is easy to forget so much here," she responded.

He said no more, only led her out of the pool, using his wand to transfigure a patch of moss into a soft blanket.

He pulled her into a soft kiss. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," she replied, giving him a small smile.

He gave a smile back, and gently tugged her down onto the blanket, this time taking his time in love-making. When they finished, he pulled her into his arms, covering them both with the blanket.

A curious unicorn foal moved over toward them and they watched until the young creature grew bored and curled up near Draco to fall asleep. Awed by the honor the beast had bestowed on him, he laid a hand on it. Eventually, he fell into an exhausted sleep as well, finally looking to have found some sort of peace from whatever had been troubling him.

She watched both of them sleep for a while, contemplating his words about how easy it could be to hide in this place. A selfish part of her wanted to ask him to stay with her and be her companion, and she felt a surge of guilt wash over her. He went back to the castle every night to face the nightmare that Voldemort was creating, and her friends were still in the castle, facing horrible detentions in order to maintain Dumbledore's Army, all while she remained in this beautiful, enchanted world.

Being careful to not wake her lover, she pulled out of his embrace. She remained unmindful of her nakedness as she tucked the blanket around him, the little foal moving closer to him in sleep. The foal's trust in him reaffirmed the fact that her lover's heart and his intentions, at the deepest level, was pure and good. She smiled at the sweet picture.

Unfortunately, she was pulled from her thoughts too abruptly by an unexpected voice.

"Greetings, my pretty Sprite." She recognized Tenere's voice immediately and jumped, grabbing the nearest item available, which happened to be Draco's shirt, to cover herself.

Tenere laughed, and she quickly motioned for him to be quiet. He looked at the sleeping foal and chuckled softly. She was grateful that his greeting was not loud enough to wake either Draco or the foal.

She indicated that he turn away, and he complied with a smile.

"No need to be shy with me, you know," he said, as she frantically re-wove her dress before walking over to him.

"Shh..." she said, irritated with his intrusion. "I don't want you to wake them."

He looked over at the foal, finally taking notice of the blond young man sleeping next to it. A frown came to his face. "I see I have arrived at an inopportune time, Sprite."

She had a momentary fear that Tenere would do something to cause trouble. She decided to try to stop it before it started. "He is troubled, Tenere. Let him be."

The anger on the centaur's face was unmistakable. "You care for him now, it seems."

She looked away, unable to deny his statement. She did care for the wizard, far more than she wanted to admit.

"He should be troubled," Tenere continued. "His world is on the brink of war."

"What have you heard?" she asked, sounding a bit more demanding than she'd intended, but his words had alarmed her.

"The one they call the Dark Lord is on the verge of finishing his takeover. It will be soon."

She gasped in fear. It was too soon. They were so close, so very close to finding some sort of spell that might weaken Voldemort and help Harry, but not yet.

He seemed surprised by her reaction. "The Dark Lord has promised change for my people. Are you not happy about that, Sprite?"

Her brow creased in worry and she wondered if Voldemort had been attempting to recruit the centaurs in some way. "Not this way, Tenere. Not this way. Please don't tell me that you believe what Voldemort is saying!"`

The centaur looked at her, confused. "He has promised to oust your Ministry, the very ones who have persecuted my people for decades. So far, he has followed through on that promise. I have no reason to doubt his words."

She looked up at the big centaur, hoping that he might see the honesty in her eyes. "He'll promise anything to get his way, Tenere. Then, he'll betray you. That's what he does."

"Hmmph."

She touched his arm in earnest, and he looked down at her and seemed to relax.

Taking his reaction as a willingness to listen further, she pointed over at Draco's sleeping form. "Voldemort is the reason he's here looking for help. His father was Voldemort's greatest supporter, and for all they did for him, they were cast aside when he was done with them. He'll do the same to you."

Her eyes were big and pleading and Tenere softened toward her, as he always seemed to do. "Why do you care? You aren't part of their world anymore."

"I care because I don't want to see you even worse than before. Voldemort hates everyone, particularly anyone not like himself. No good can come from him being in power. But, don't take only my word for it. Just promise me that you'll watch him. Don't trust him blindly."

He looked at her affectionately, seeing the honesty and concern in her eyes. "You are so unlike any of your kind, Sprite. If only the others could be more like you."

"I'm not unusual," she said. "Most of my friends and family aren't any different. I wish you could meet them."

He laughed at her words. "Few of your kind care anything about centaurs, little one."

She smiled sadly. "But there are so many good ones who do care, Tenere. I know my family is among them."

"It is unfortunate then," he responded.

She looked at him. He was giving the appearance of someone who was going to be the bearer of bad news and it worried her.

"I have been looking into the future for you, and I came to tell you that it is unchanged," he said solemnly.

"Unchanged? But...but how?" A deep fear wrapped around her heart. This couldn't be! She'd learned so much, grown her powers, and she and Draco had discovered what seemed to be Voldemort's Achilles Heel. All they had to do was finalize and deliver the information.

"I don't understand," she continued. "We found... so much! Elora said that my work here would help!"

"She said it _could _ help change what you saw, not that it definitely would. The time is soon, my Sprite. The secrets you've discovered will help you, it seems, but not enough to change the fate of your loved ones. I'm sorry."

She dropped to sit on the ground, suddenly feeling quite limp. A tear slowly rolled down her cheek.

"It's not fair, Tenere," she said, her voice choked from the tears that she feared would soon overwhelm her.

"It is the way of things, my Sprite. All has its place," he said in a comforting tone.

"No. Not like this. They're good people, good people who have lives and love each other and only want to live in peace. I don't understand how a creature like Voldemort can win when all he wants is to see others in pain."

He lowered himself so he could look at her more evenly. "My sweet Fire Sprite, I do wish that it could be different for your herd."

She looked back up. "Please don't listen to him, Tenere. Please don't believe him. He'll only hurt you too."

The centaur, gently cupped her face with his hand, and leaned over her, their matching red hair blending seamlessly. He gave her a kiss on the top of her head. "I will consider your words, my Sprite," was all he said before he slowly disappeared into the canopy of the forest.

She sat down and stared at the beauty of the enchanted glade for a long time, as the unicorns continued to graze and the foal continued to snuggle close to her lover. The tranquility of the scene calmed her, although her heart was no less troubled.

It was getting late in the day, twilight fast approaching. She went to wake Draco, so that he would get back to the castle before he was missed.

He seemed to sense her approach and sat up, still looking tired, letting the blanket fall to his waist revealing his bare chest. She smiled and felt a compulsive urge to go over and touch him.

Disturbed by her companion awakening, the little foal woke also and began to nudge him in an effort to play. Ginny watched the scene in amusement as Draco complied with the young creature's request, occasionally catching his gaze and smiling. The moment ended too quickly, however, as its parent soon joined it and the unicorn herd moved off silently into the wood, leaving the two alone once again.

"Do you feel better?" she asked, returning to his side.

He nodded but said nothing, only reaching to pull her close once again.

"It's getting late. You should be heading back," she reminded him.

"Not tonight. If it's all right with you, I'd rather stay here."

She nodded and snuggled closer to him, turning to give him a soft kiss. They still needed to talk.

"What happened?" she asked simply.

The troubled look once again returned to his face as he recalled the reason that he'd come here in the first place. He took a deep breath, then slowly released it before speaking. "It's getting worse at home," he finally said, taking a pause as he seemed to search for the right words. "There are plans being made... plans for me and my mother."

"You mentioned that Carrow was openly suggesting an arranged marriage so he could get his hands on your inheritance..."

"Apparently, that's not good enough for him anymore. He wants control of my family's wealth first hand. I got information from Snape today that my father won't be allowed to live for much longer. Worse, Carrow is arranging to have Voldemort persuade my mother to marry him after she's widowed."

Ginny felt shocked by his words. "He plans to murder your father so he can marry your mother? That's insane!"

"From their point of view, it's ambitious. The Dark Lord is enjoying the power struggle. Apparently, he's been waiting to see who was going be the most creative about eliminating my father."

She gasped. "Draco that's horrible! What are you going to do?"

He shrugged, his unhappiness once again marring his handsome features, making him appear older. No wonder he was exhausted. "What can I do?" he asked. "I'm only one person. I can't take them all on alone."

She'd felt the same way only minutes before. The profound feeling of helplessness at being alone against enormous circumstances was overwhelming. She understood his feelings quite well. The least they could do was support each other.

"Then we'll just have to work harder to find those spells."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not, Draco," she replied, looking away and feeling miserable. "But it's all we have, and it makes me feel better to be doing something. It feels right. You know?"

He nodded. "I know." He paused, noticing that the troubled look on her face matched his own. "It's coming soon, isn't it," he said.

"It is. Tenere came by while you were sleeping and told me that something will happen soon. Voldemort's ready to finish things."

He bit back some sort of comment about his dislike of the centaur, but knew that it would get him nowhere. Instead, he shifted the discussion to what he'd learned that week as they pulled out their books to get back to work.


	16. Chapter 16 Of Dreams and Destiny

A/N - Only 2 chapters to go and possibly an epilogue. Here's a long one for you!

- - - - - - -

They worked for the next two days, and finally, finally they'd found the last spell. After months of searching, the final piece of the puzzle had been located, buried deep in an ancient book that Draco had stolen from the restricted section of the Hogwarts library. A few relatively simple spells of protection, that would block Voldemort from draining power from others, creating a shield from the divining lines under the school, that would prevent him from gathering full intensity of the Dark Magic that was so formidable.

The two sat back and stared at the parchment that contained the summary of their months of work.

"It doesn't seem like much, does it?" he asked.

"No. Looking at it now, it seems so simple," she concurred.

"Now we have to figure out how to get it to Potter," he said.

"Even if we could find him, we'd have to work out a way to deliver it to him," she said.

Draco thought for a moment, "Nobody seems to know where he is. If the entire resources of the Ministry can't locate him, what chance would we have? Or is there something you can do?"

"I'm still restricted to this particular forest. The others won't help, they consider it interfering."

He pounded his fist into the ground, snarling in frustration. "What is it with these ridiculous rules? They say they're helping you, yet every time we find a way, they have a rule in place to make it nearly impossible for us to use it."

Anger crossed her face, not so much at him for his remark, but because she shared the same frustration and was unable to do anything about it. His lack of understanding led to a lack of control in her temper. "You don't think I'm just as angry about that? I have to **live** like this now. I have to be separated from everyone and everything I've ever known to become part of a greater good. This is going to be my life from now on, and every day I have to wonder if I've made the right choice!" she snapped back at him.

He looked at her, pulled out of his selfish thoughts as he was reminded of her sacrifice. And he couldn't help but think that being with him had been part of said sacrifice.

"It's really that bad," he stated.

She seemed to think for a moment, and eventually spoke.

"I don't know. There are parts that are horrible, like never seeing my family again. But there are parts that are wonderful," she said looking at him. He unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. She continued, "most of it right now is just frustrating and confusing."

"I guess I'm sorry I was angry with you."

Surprised at his unusual act of apologizing, she felt her annoyance dissipate almost immediately. "It's not your fault. I'd be angry too. It just means that we have to find another way," she replied.

He thought for a moment. "Do you think that your family might be able to access him?"

A few months ago, she might have been suspicious of the question, thinking that he might have wanted the information for his own gain within Voldemort's ranks. But since then, things had changed. She trusted him implicitly.

"I think they might have some contact with him. They tried to keep me from knowing for certain, though, for my own protection," she said, annoyed by the memory of her family's over-protective tendencies.

"I think I might be able to convince your brother Bill."

"That's good," she said quietly. "I wish I could talk to him myself," she continued sadly, tears coming to her eyes. He noticed that the vibrancy of her dress always seemed to fade when she was sad. "I miss everyone so much."

He put his hand under her chin, guiding her to look up at him. Her amber-green eyes were still wet with tears, and he leaned toward her to kiss them away, gently putting a kiss on each cheek, then he kissed her softly on the lips. He heard her sigh as she started responding to the kiss and his ego couldn't help but be pleased. It was rather flattering to think that an elusive wood nymph would so easily respond to him like this.

Moving to put his arms around her and pull her close, he notice that her flowery dress had once again regained its vibrant color. Not that it mattered, he didn't plan on having her wear it for much longer.

He pulled her back to the blanket, amazed once again at the warmth in the clearing despite the cool spring day. He carefully laid his nymph back, kissing her as if his life depended on it. In a way, it did.  
Soon, school would end, and he'd go back to his life, whatever was left of it. He could only hope that whatever the outcome of the war, that he'd be able to find something akin to the happiness he felt here. It would take him years to forget her, he was sure, but eventually he'd want to have a wife and children, and take them out to the forest and teach them to appreciate life and its beauty. She would be there, he knew, even if he would no longer be able to see her, and he'd want her to see his children and know them. He'd want her to know that she'd succeeded in saving him.

So, he held her and loved her, and tried to let her know, without words that their tryst had been for the best. He was a better person for having known her, and he had no regrets.

- - -

Between Carrow and his Slytherin tails constantly watching him, he wasn't able to get anywhere near Longbottom or the Forest for the next week. He appeared to be the model student, but every spare moment was spent trying to come up with a plan that might get him to somehow do the impossible, that being, getting in touch with Granger or Potter.

Longbottom, at this point, might not be able to trust him, but he at least might have some willingness to hear him out based on the fact that he'd saved them a lot of pain over the last few months. Either that, or the Gryffindors simply mistook his skill at faking the curses as him being inept. However, the Gryffindor boy had trusted him enough to create a diversion for him recently, without Draco even needing to ask. The boy had seen him looking for an opportunity and had willingly created the diversion.

Either way, Draco could only hope that Longbottom would be willing to help him again, this time to get in touch with one of the Weasleys or someone who was on their side.

It wasn't easy to get Neville alone discreetly as he was being watched even more closely by spies for Carrow. Any civil conversation between the two would likely alert the suspicions of any Slytherin within the area. It had to appear to be confrontational.

Draco was patient, but he did have a timetable. The days were getting longer and the first early flowers of spring were starting to appear on the now thawed ground. The confrontation with Voldemort was imminent and time to implement his newly formed plan was growing short.

Finally, he planned a trip down to the greenhouses, knowing that Neville's schedule would lead him down that same path for his regular class. He waited until Neville got up before leaving just ahead of the Gryffindor, making sure that he was only a few paces ahead of the boy until they were well out of earshot of anyone else.

Halfway to the greenhouses, he turned on Neville, glaring. His expression completely countered by his words. Neville stopped in shock at the angry look on Draco's face.

"I know you're not following me Longbottom but I need this to look like I'm furious at you so nobody suspects I'm talking to you."

"Alright..." Neville responded tentatively, his hand on his wand in a defensive posture.

"Just play along. You know I'm being watched by the Slytherins too. We don't have much time."

"Then talk fast, Malfoy."

"I need to get in touch with whoever ordered your kind to follow me, Bill Weasley, I expect. I have information."

"What kind of information? Just tell me and I'll pass it on."

"Doesn't work that way, Longbottom. I can't risk it getting into the wrong hands. If it does, we'd be as good as dead."

Neville contemplated the other's words, the internal struggle of whether or not to trust him clearly on his face. Finally he seemed to come to a decision.

"I can get a message out."

"Good. I'll be going to Hogsmeade next weekend. Tell Weasley I can meet him then."

When Saturday arrived, Draco left the castle, parchment firmly tucked in his cloak. He could only hope that his message had been sufficient to attract the eldest Weasley's attention and that he would show up. He wasn't disappointed, as he was barely in the village for twenty minutes before his quarry appeared.

Draco was casually leaning against a fountain near the sweet shop, apparently enjoying his latest candy purchase, when he caught the first glimpse if fiery Weasley hair. Moving along the street, he verified that he hadn't attracted any other attention before slipping into an narrow alleyway between two of the shops.

As Bill walked past, Draco slipped out behind him and whispered, "You Gryffindors are so predictable."

The older man showed no visible surprise, but turned slowly to confront him, "Who's not to say that I don't have a half dozen Aurors with their wands trained on you right now?"

"It doesn't matter. I wanted this meeting, Weasley. I have information for you."

Bill's eyes only showed suspicion, "And I'm supposed to believe you... why?"

"I need to get a message to Potter. I understand that some of your people might be able to get to him."

"Again, I ask, why?"

"Because I'm trying to help you. It's in my best interest if the Dark Lord fails."

"You're going to have to do better than that," Bill replied. "You have information about Ginny. Let's start there."

Draco turned, throwing his head back and looking upward in disbelief. These Weasleys were all bloody thick. It took him long enough to earn Ginny's trust. He thought that maybe this one had a bit more sense than the others. He'd at least seemed more reasonable than Ron.

"I told you, she's not a captive. She's safe and I'm not at liberty to tell you anything more. We have to get past this if we're going to get anywhere."

"Ginny's safety takes precedence over everything, even You-Know-Who."

"Your people have been following me for months. If I was doing anything evil, surely one of them would have reported that to you by now."

"All I know is that you spend plenty of time in the Forbidden Forest and, while you are there, you have books with you. When you go in there, you seem to disappear. I'm guessing that you've got something hidden in there and I want to know what it is and if it has anything to do with what you've done with my sister."

"I told you, I had nothing to do with her disappearance," Draco responded, remain truthful, but cryptic with his choice of words.

"Yet you know she's supposedly safe."

"I swore an oath to her that I wouldn't tell you."

"To her."

"Yes! Damn it. Believe me or don't believe me," he pulled out the parchment, "I need to get this to Granger. She'll be able to figure it out and explain it to Scarhead. It's important they get it soon."

Bill took the parchment and stared at it for a moment, then looked back up at Draco, trying to read the teenager's expression for any sign of deception. Draco steadily met his gaze.

"I can't guarantee anything. I don't trust you, Malfoy."

Draco understood that this was the likely scenario. Bill had far too many reasons to hate him, not withstanding his suspicions about Ginny's disappearance. But he wasn't in Slytherin just for his money, he had come prepared.

"Then let's make a deal," Draco said.

"What kind of deal?"

This was the opportunity he'd been hoping for, and he forced himself not to smile as he suggested his compromise. "I need to get my parents to safety. They're in danger where they are as it is, but once the Dark Lord finds out what I've been researching, their lives are forfeit. I want them kept someplace out of the fighting."

Bill seemed confused by the insinuation. "I'm not sure I understand, Malfoy. I was under the impression your father..."

"My father is a pawn right now, Weasley. And if things stay as they are, I will be too. If you get my parents to safety, I'll act as a hostage. At the very least, you can get my parents someplace where you can watch them and that's two less that your people need to worry about."

Bill's eyes narrowed as he searched Draco's face for any sign of deception.

Draco continued, "I'll give you the location of my parents and give them information that will get them to go with you willingly. We can make it look like you've kidnapped my mother, so that Dark Lord won't suspect and my father can meet up with you later. You can keep us all out of the way, under guard or whatever, until this thing is over. Your choice of where, as long as it's relatively comfortable."

"You think that they will go for this."

"I know my mother will, as long as she knows I'm safe. She'll convince my father."

The plan reflected Draco's Slytherin scheming in all its glory. Events of the entire year had even worked to back up the logic of his plan. With Draco under suspicion by Weasley, and subsequently being followed all year by a variety of Gryffindors, it would be an easy step to think that they'd eventually attack him or his family in an attempt to gather information about the missing Ginny.

By faking a kidnapping, Voldemort wouldn't question the Malfoy family's loyalty. His parents would be out of the fight, and safe. Better yet, if the Dark Lord defeated Potter and became all powerful, he and his family wouldn't be considered traitors or defectors.

On the other hand, if Potter won, his family had the luxury of appearing as if they had defected. The beauty of the plan was that they wouldn't have to fight at all because they would be in protective custody.

The Malfoys would win either way. It was purely brilliant, if he did say so himself.

-

He almost ran back to the forest to deliver the news to Ginny.

"I want you to do something for me," she said quietly.

"You said you wouldn't ask anything from me, remember?"

"I know, but I guess, it's more of a request, really."

"What is it?" he asked, almost absently.

"Stay out of it."

He shifted to look at her. Her statement confused him. "Stay out of what?"

"The battle. The war. All of it. Please."

It certainly wasn't what he'd expected, and he decided to voice it. "I thought you hoped I'd make some sort of choice. That staying neutral was the coward's way out."

She shook her head. She'd learned enough over the months about good and bad and so many shades of gray and she tried to explain without being overly dramatic. "I don't know who will win. I only know that a lot of people that I care about are going to die. I don't want you to be one of them. I couldn't bear it."

He looked flattered. "And why would you say that?"

She smiled, knowing that her words would have such an effect on his ego. It lightened the serious tone of the conversation and reminded her of why she was so fond of him. She responded in a teasing tone, "Because I've put a lot of effort into getting you to care about life, and I'd hate to see all that good work put to waste."

He laughed. "Oh, really?"

"Well, that's part of it anyway," she looked away shyly. He laughed at her being shy after all their time together. She continued to speak, her tone once again becoming serious. "Just try to keep out of anything controversial and wait until it's over. You can still have a good life and make a good influence on the future, no matter what happens here. I want you to live. I want you to be happy."

"I am happy right now," he told her as he pulled her close. She relaxed into his embrace.

After a few moments of cuddling, he added, "I might not be able to see you again."

"I know. It's going to end soon. I can almost feel it."

"Yes, I think so," he replied. "Snape has had me help with brewing a lot of healing potions. He says we need to have plenty in storage in the near future. It's very, very close."

"Did he say anything else?"

"He didn't exactly say it, but I think Potter is close to finding whatever he's looking for. The Dark Lord is worried and he seems to be acting irrationally sometimes, but I don't know any of the details."

"They talk in riddles to me when I ask about it," she added. "I think they are afraid I'd slip out the wrong information so they're trying to keep me in the dark."

"It must be so frustrating for you."

"It is. I'm supposed to grow all powerful and wise and such. I thought that this link to the Enchanted world would be some help to us, I mean to my family. Now, I'm sure that it was a mistake for me to try. Elora keeps insisting that I'm on the right path but won't say what that path is."

He assumed that he was part of that mistake but didn't elaborate on the thought. Instead he asked, "And you know things that will happen?"

"Not much. Just that the battle is a turning point for the world in some grand good vs. evil magic sort of way. They also led me to believe that if I didn't chose this life that most of my family would die as a result. I was supposed to grow and learn and somehow gain something that would save them. I still have no idea what that is. I'm afraid I wasn't very smart about finding it."

"I hope I didn't keep you distracted from your studies," he said smiling slightly.

She blushed in response. "No. No. It's not like that. I certainly had plenty of time to concentrate on whatever they were trying to tell me while you weren't around," she replied, resting her head against his chest, and enjoying the feel of him playing with her hair.

"If anything, you've only helped. You're the only sane thing I have right now. It's just that the information is so vague that I doubt that I will ever understand. Though I have a millennia or so to work on it, I suppose. "

He laughed. "A millennia or so?"

"Probably more. Nymphs live quite a long time."

"But you can die."

"I think so. They don't really talk about death like wizards do. It's very philosophical, I suppose. I get the impression that death for them is a very different thing."

They said nothing for a while, each contemplating their own thoughts.

Finally, he spoke. "Do you regret coming here?"

"Sometimes I do," she almost left it at that, but then added, "But I don't regret having known you."

"And I thought all you wanted me for was to use me to gain your full power."

She smiled. "I told you, I had no idea that that was how you were supposed to help me. Like I said, they are pretty vague."

"Well it was a pleasure to be of service, in that area," pausing to watch her blush again.

He paused, thinking for a while, then said thoughtfully, "Maybe I should have been the one to join this group. I kind of like puzzling out the metaphysical riddles."

"That's probably why you get along so well with Snape," she chided.

"He's a good man."

"I know. But he is a bit abrasive."

"I like that about him. At least you know where you stand."

"Well, I'm not supposed to harbor hatred toward anyone, even him, but I must admit, some of you mere mortals are much easier to get along with than others," she informed him, eying him flirtatiously.

"Nymph."

"Thank you."

He tickled her, and she squealed delightedly. They laughed and played some more, albeit with a small bit of sadness, knowing that it might be their last time together. Finally collapsing side by side on his cloak, looking up at the sky.

"Can I ask you something?" he said thoughtfully.

"You can ask, whether or not I can answer is another thing."

"Will you try to see Potter?"

She paused. Harry. The boy she'd had a crush on for so very long. The one who was most hard to leave when she chose this new life. A moment of shock came over her when she realized she really hadn't thought about him for some time.

His face was impassive, as if bracing for an answer he didn't want to hear. He was obviously tense, looking like he regretted asking.

"No, I don't think so," she finally said.

"It would be too hard on him," he surmised aloud, a jealous look crossing his handsome features.

"No, not that. It's not that at all. It would be... difficult. That life is past." She didn't know how to put into words that she simply didn't want to see Harry because she didn't fully understand her feelings on this matter. The truth was that she was so attached to Draco that she felt like it would be some sort of betrayal to see Harry.

It was best that Harry thought of her as missing or gone. It would be easier for him to move on. Apparently, she already had. This relationship with Draco was not something she'd been prepared for.  
She thought it would be easier, giving herself to this man who had meant so little to her before. She thought that it would be easier to let him go. Yet, she'd walked away from her old life and her old  
love without much regret and now she was finding walking away from a boy she'd once considered an enemy to be so very much harder.

He challenged her. He respected her. She hoped that he might even love her just a little bit. It would be nice to think that he'd remember her after he moved on.

"I'm glad it was you," she finally said.

"Glad it was me what?" he asked.

"Glad that you were the one that found me, that you were the one who... you know." She blushed.

He also blushed as he realized she was talking about the physical aspect of their relationship. "It wasn't all that difficult, you know. I'm 17, and you're a nymph. It's not like it was something I didn't want to do. Of course, it would be better if I could actually brag about it to someone. Most wizards think nymphs are just myth."

"No, I mean..." she didn't know how to put it into words. "I mean, I'm glad, of all the wizards that could have walked into my life, that it was you found me here, and it's you that I'm with now."

He wasn't quite sure what she was saying, except that she found him to be worthy in some way. That was alright by him.

"I won't see you again after this is over, will I?" he finally asked.

"No," she said simply.

He was surprised she answered so shortly. He was silent at her response, looking at the pool. He appeared to be in deep thought.

"I wish that we could," he said finally.

"Me too."

"Why not? Can you stay near the forest at my home? Does it matter where you are?"

"It doesn't quite work that way. Yes, I could be there. I could be anywhere, there aren't any boundaries, at least there won't be after this confrontation is over. I'll be allowed to leave this forest soon."

"Then why not?"

"You know why. It's not the way of things. We're...different."

He nodded, but there was a definite pout in his features. She thought he looked like a child who was having his favorite toy taken from him. She found it endearing.

"I know that," he finally said. "It doesn't make it any easier to accept."

She moved to sit beside him, resting her head against his shoulder, as he continued to stare at the water.

"I will still see you," she finally said.

He brightened, very slightly. "Really?"

"I've got hundreds of years ahead of me. I have to do something to pass the time. It might be nice to check in and see how you are doing."

He almost smiled. "I'll find a way to catch sight of you, you know."

"Maybe. I expect to get more practice in, so I could get better at hiding"

"I suppose it would be nice, knowing that I have my own personal Enchanted watching out for me."

"And your children. I want you to have a bunch of them. And I hope that you take them into the forest so I can see them. I promise I'll look out for them too."

"Won't you be jealous, if I get married and have bunches of children with some other woman?"

"Of course I will, but I'm working to get over that flaw. I want you to be happy, and I'll be happy for you."

"I'll teach them all about nymphs."

"I hope you do."

They held each other, for as long as they could, staring at the water, until it started getting dark. It was time for him to go back.

"I wish that we could still see each other after this is over," he said, getting up to leave.

"I don't think so," she answered. "It might be easier for you, since you really should live you're own life. I'm just meant to be a passing thing, I suppose."

"I suppose," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. "I wish it was different."

"Me too. I think I'll miss you quite terribly for a very, very long time."

He trudged back

His heart was heavy, knowing that his time with her was at an end. She seemed to be equally as sad, and that thought fed the selfish part of him.

He cared deeply about her, and would always feel a fondness for her. He was afraid of calling it love, but he was pretty sure that it was.

No, it was best to leave it now, as it was, while they could still bear to part from one another. Circumstances demanded that it end like this. It was better this way.

They could never share the same world or the same life, not as completely separate beings. He could see now why the myths told of men never returning after meeting a nymph. Their world was very,  
very compelling. He had difficulty walking away from it now and if he became any more deeply involved with her, he'd be tempted to remain with her, never return to the world of wizards as well.

But he couldn't live his life in the forest, just as she could no longer live her life inside enclosed walls. The worst part, however, was that she would forever be a beautiful sixteen year old, while he was destined to grow old in his human form. He couldn't even imagine if it would have possible for them to  
have children.

Their relationship was doomed, and they both accepted that. It was best that they part now and forever hold fondness in their hearts for each other.

He could face his future now, he realized. He would even be able to accept an arranged marriage, if it came to that. Nobody he could meet would ever match her, so he only looked forward to having a spouse who could live with him amicably. He could accept that.

He would, as promised, bring his children and maybe his grandchildren to the forest so she could know them, even if it was only at a distance. He would train them to spot the nymphs in hiding. He was sure that it would annoy her to no end by still being able to find her, as well as training his children to do the same. It would be bittersweet, but it could still be something he could share with her.

It gave him hope that she would be there, maybe looking out for him and his descendants, long after he was gone.

Yes, he would always feel love for her. She'd given him back his hope for the future. He hoped he'd given her something of the same.

- - -

It was the next day that he saw an article in the Daily Prophet about his mother's disappearance. He could only hope that it was directly a result of Bill's actions.

The day after that, he got word that his father had gone on a quest to find his wife's kidnappers to deliver justice.

He was only waiting a confirmation from Weasley that he'd been behind the unusual activity. If it had worked, his job was done. He would be able to make sure the information got to Potter and Granger, and be on his merry way.

He smiled. For the first time in a very long time, he felt something akin to real hope for the future. The plan actually had a chance of working.

All because of one small red-haired nymph.

- - -

"You have my parents," he stated flatly after Neville Longbottom brought him into the Gryffindor Common room to meet Bill Weasley.

"They're in a safe place. You saw the article. Now, it's your turn."

"I agree, I'm in your custody until this is over. I won't complain." Bill nodded solemnly, taking his wand. Draco relinquished it calmly.

"I will get that back in good condition," he said sharply.

Bill nodded, "Don't worry, Malfoy, just as soon as it's over."

"Were you able to get the parchment to Potter?"

"Not yet."

"What? That was the deal! Just get the parchment to Granger. She's smart enough to figure it out. She'll know it's the answer."

"What will I figure out?" a voice called out from the entrance.

Both immediately turned to see the most unlikely of people enter the Common room. However, the trio never quite got a chance to even notice Draco when shouts of, "Harry's back" erupted from somewhere in the Common room, and students started pouring out of the dorms to greet their resident hero. Draco felt bile rise in his throat at the attention the trio received.

"I didn't betray you Malfoy," Bill explained amidst the commotion. "They were coming here and I was going to hand it over tonight. Better that they know where the information came from."

He continued to watch the Gryffindors shower adoration on Potter and company and finally lost his temper. He turned to Bill, "This is a waste of time. I need to talk to Granger, now!" He knew he was sounding like a petulant child, but watching the hero-worship was nauseating and this really was important.

Both of them worked their way through the small crowd, many moving aside in shock at the sight of a Slytherin in the Common room.

Bill reached them first and tapped Ron on the shoulder to get his attention. Ron turned and grinned as he recognized his brother and the two embraced warmly for a moment.

"Enough of the family reunion stuff. You'll have time for that later," Draco commented dryly.

The sound of Draco's snide voice made all three turn and look up. He fervently wished he had a camera for the moment, as he watched all three jaws dropped in unison at the sight of him.

Ron was the first to recover, as his look of shock immediately turned to fury at the sight of his longtime enemy, "What's this filth doing here?"

"Speak for yourself, Weasley. You're the one who looks like he hasn't had a good bath for a while."

It was true. All three had on clothing that looked far worse for the wear. They'd obviously not been living in luxury during their time in hiding.

Harry and Ron both took a step to launch themselves at the Slytherin but were both stopped by the enormous bulk of Bill. Draco found the sight highly amusing. He would have enjoyed taunting his rivals further but he had more important matters to attend to.

"Bill, let me by!" Ron shouted at being impeded by his own brother.

"He claims to have information that will help," Bill responded, somewhat unenthusiastically.

"I wouldn't trust anything this git has. It would probably kill us all," Harry added, scowling as both boys backed down, but remained on guard.

Bill held out the parchment, "I looked it over. It looks valid, based on what I know about curses and related Dark Magic."

Hermione reached out for the paper, looking over at Draco, "What is it?"

He'd counted on Granger's notorious quest for knowledge and overwhelming nosiness to counter any reservations she might have about the source of the information. He spoke as she scanned the document, "We found a flaw in the use of Dark Magic. There are ways to isolate it, make it weaker. We found spells that would be the most useful in weakening his ability to draw on the power."

She looked at him in awe, "This is brilliant! How did you find this?"

He smiled smugly at her. For the first time, it was an absolute joy to know that he'd sworn an oath to keep his source a secret.

"Unfortunately, I can't tell you."

"It's a trap is what it is," Ron interrupted scathingly.

"It's not a trap."

Hermione was looking over the parchment, "I don't think it's a trap, Ron. It looks too... right."

Harry was now looking over her shoulder in disbelief at the information. Draco was amused to see the confusion as he tried to comprehend the details. He or Granger would have to explain it to Potter using small words. He took a great deal of satisfaction at the thought.

Neville came forward, looking over Hermione's other shoulder, then at Harry. "I think you should believe him, Harry."

Bill and the other three turned to Neville with identical looks of disbelief.

"What?" Neville said in a slightly whiny tone.

Once again, Draco found watching the interaction to be one of the highlights of his miserable year within the castle walls.

"I think you should believe him," Neville repeated.

They looked to the smirking blond, and back to Neville, silently asking for an explanation.

"Look, he's either the worst person to ever throw a curse, or he's been protecting half our house every detention," Neville said.

Draco blanched. He wasn't sure if he wanted his altruistic actions to be brought out in this particular manner. It might make him look like he actually cared about them, and that was a bit much.

"I wouldn't put it that way. I just didn't see the use in torturing firsties. I have better ways of having my fun." A brief thought crossed his mind of telling Potter exactly how he'd been having fun these last few months, but he bit back the words, knowing that it would only hurt his cause.

The group turned back to Neville as he responded, and Draco once again got an internal chuckle at the sight of the trio looking back and forth like a group of tennis spectators.

"Carrow hates him," Neville explained. "Treats him just as bad as he does any of us. I'd be the first to say anything if I thought he was doing it for his own benefit, but truth is, Malfoy took a big risk every time he held back."

"Don't get all mushy on me, Longbottom. I'm not about to start getting involved in some Gryffindor group hug."

They ignored his comment and turned back to Neville. "So, you think he's trustworthy?" Harry asked.

"I can't say for sure about that," he said, pointing to the parchment, "but he's definitely changed this year, enough to make me strongly doubt that he's working with the Death Eaters."

"It's in my best interest if the Dark Lord doesn't succeed," Draco responded when the group turned back to him.

"Now that sounds like a reason worthy of a Slytherin," Ron said, still clearly showing his dislike of the blond.

Nobody actually admitted it, but those words brought the group to an uneasy sort of truce. Hermione's eagerness to talk about his research into blocking Dark Magic caused her to overlook the fact that she hated the person providing the information.

The six of them, the trio, Bill, Draco and Neville, sat in the common room for the rest of the night going over the details of the Dark Magic theory. Draco explained each spell in detail, answering questions, mostly from Hermione, about where they came from and how he'd arrived at his conclusions. It was almost dawn before they were finally satisfied with the information.

"This really could work," Hermione finally stated.

Draco leaned back on the headrest of the couch, closing his eyes in exhaustion. "As I've already stated, Granger. So nice of you to agree with me."

She let out a humph of annoyance at him. Just because they were allies, didn't necessarily mean that they needed to even remotely like each other.

"He can't know we have this information," she said, ignoring his comment.

"I haven't shared this with anyone, unless Bill has been careless with that parchment." He so wanted to mention Ginny, who'd been his partner in this project, but it wasn't his place.

He looked over at Bill, the only other one in the room who wasn't dozing on his chair. Bill shook his head. "I was tempted, but no. I didn't even tell my wife. The parchment has been with me since you gave it to me three days ago."

Hermione's face lit up and she actually smiled at Draco and Bill. "We have a chance then. This is the advantage we needed."

"We'd best get some sleep while we can, then," Bill said. "All the knowledge in the world won't help any of us if we're too tired to use it.

Quick transfigurations produced pillows and blankets and the six fell asleep on whatever piece of furniture they happened to have occupied. To Draco, it was the strangest situation he'd ever known.


	17. Chapter 17 Prophesy Unfulfilled

The battle had finally begun. How it had started or why were almost irrelevant. All that mattered was that the moment of foretold by the dreadful prophesy had arrived.

Ginny hid among the trees with the other nymphs, watching the flashes of light on the distant hillside, unable to help, unable to look away, and trembling with fear. After almost a year of trying to find some way to prevent the outcome of the events of this night, she was powerless to do anything more.

She was sure that her sisters were going to find this entire night fascinating. Although they had tried to be respectful of Ginny's feelings over the past day, their anticipation over the event had been quite apparent. This evening marked a turning point in the world of both wizards and Muggles, and the Enchanted were eager to witness its outcome.

Even now, they whispered among themselves, in anticipation of how they would discuss and analyze every nuance of the epic battle that was unfolding before them. They would weave stories and folklore out of the lessons learned and pass them on to future generations of nymph as well as humans, etching this night into the fabric of history. It was more than curiosity that drove their anticipation, it was their duty as guardians of humankind.

She tried not to be angry with them for looking forward to the moment that she had been dreading for nearly a year, but it was difficult. These beings were different from her, even though she was now physically one of them, deep in her heart, she would always be a witch. Although the nymphs had truly tried to be sensitive about Ginny's feelings, it seemed that they would never understand, just as she would never truly understand them for refusing to intervene when so many were about to die.

As the first of Voldemort's followers marched toward the castle, Ginny felt an overwhelming urge to help her friends, despite the fact that she knew she couldn't. An odd feeling of detachment seemed to overtake her, as something within the very fiber of her body reminded her that she was bound by laws to prevent manipulating the world of wizards. She accepted that fact, but she didn't have to like it. So she willed herself to just watch, hoping that the outcome would, by some miracle, not take the form that she'd foreseen.

Despite the fact that Reya and Callista sat by her, offering their silent support, Ginny had never felt so horribly alone.

At the beginning, the battle was small. A handful of Death Eaters arrived, attempting to gain entry to the castle and, oddly enough, Headmaster Snape was the one who denied their entry. His obvious betrayal caused confusion among the group, allowing Harry, Ron and Hermione to attempt to circle around behind, presumably to get closer to Voldemort so that they could attempt to use the spells that would ultimately weaken his magic.

They were unsuccessful, however, and were soon forced to make an almost solitary stand against Voldemort's group of loyal followers.

Their defiance in the face of so much opposition was admirable, and Ginny was shocked to see Snape defend the three for as long as he was able. But more Death Eaters began to arrive, and the small group of teachers that had come to the aid in defense of the castle was soon outnumbered.

Voldemort stood alone and well defended for a long time, casting variety of spells that seemed to summon every evil accomplice he'd ever known. Ginny could feel the shimmer of darkness as his use of the dark power seemed to suck magic from the air around her.

As the battle unfolded, growing ever more desperate as more attackers arrived, Ginny watched in fear as her brother and his friends worked to defend each other against what seemed overwhelming odds. When others began pouring out of the castle to help, Ginny felt a profound sense of relief. When the bulk of Voldemort's followers moved to address the new threat, she saw the trio turn their attention to working other forms of magic to gain closer access to the well-defended Dark Lord.

As she watched complex details of the scene before her, becoming increasingly chaotic each time more entered the fray, Ginny came to realize that time itself seemed to slow. The strange phenomenon allowed Ginny to clearly see even the smallest details, although the hillside was quite far off. In a way, it was fascinating, but she put aside any interest in this new form of power with a bitter feeling of frustration. The magic of the nymphs was quite remarkable, yet all of it was so very useless to her.

More wizards were joining the battle. When she finally saw the familiar flash of red hair as one of her brothers exited the main hallway of the castle, then another and another, she felt her heart catch in fear. Never had she been so unhappy to see the people she loved.

Why, oh why did she join the forest folk? She wondered despondently. If she hadn't, then at least she could have tried to be down there with them despite what the vision had shown. Elora had told her she'd done right in the great scheme by being here with the nymphs, but Ginny still failed to comprehend how. Her entire family was now out there and she watched anxiously as each one dueled. Most of them were supposed to die here tonight. It had been foretold.

She had failed.

After almost a year in the forest, she'd accomplished nothing spectacular. Instead of giving her information that would help, her benefactors had talked of love and life and wisdom. They'd called her "young" and laughed at her attempts to gain more insight in the ancient ways, saying that it would come with time. Her research with Draco was nothing that couldn't have been accomplished if she'd remained a witch within the castle walls.

Now, time had run out. She wasn't even allowed to use her powers to create a distraction and her disappointment and sorrow were unfathomable. She allowed very un-nymph like feelings of anger and frustration to well within her.

She tried to draw some sort of calm by thinking about her last conversation with Elora, who'd told her that, eventually, she would understand. She doubted, even if she lived for centuries and gained all of the wisdom the ancients had to offer, that she would ever understand how she could just sit here and watch her family die.

She focused her attention on each member of her family, each precious individual, in turn, as each curse was thrown at them, or as they deflected or fought back. Even though there were a dozen battles raging, she could easily use her powers to watch them simultaneously.

Ron looked the most haggard of them as he worked to defend both Harry and Hermione. She worried that he would be the first to fall. She hadn't seen him in months and it appeared that his time away had not been kind to him. He looked taller and thinner, with circles below his eyes as if he'd not been getting enough sleep.

The twins stayed near each other, of course. She watched as they chided, encouraged and cheered each other when they succeeded in something clever. With their usual enthusiasm and love of life, they were, as mortals, more like the nymphs than she could ever be as an Enchanted, she thought. They defended each other with flair. Even in the dire circumstances, they found ways to share a sense of joy that she envied. They were both strong wizards, possibly the strongest in the family and, together, they seemed unbeatable. But she knew only one would survive.

Percy and Charlie stayed near each other as well. Percy had apparently outgrown his issue with her father during her time away. She caught them sharing a glance at one point, and the shared look showed only concern and love. She was glad of that. She wished that she could have been there to see the family reconcile and wondered if she might get the story behind it someday.

Charlie had always been the strongest of her brothers. He'd always seemed to be so fearless. His strength would help him, but only for a short while, he would survive the battle only to die later in St. Mungos from his injuries.

Then there was Bill, dear Bill. He'd spent so much time searching for her and he'd never know that she was here and safe all along. His wife was not here, and she hoped that Fleur was somewhere safe, so that her future niece or nephew would survive.

Her parents were the most difficult to watch. Her mother wanted only to defend her children, at the cost of herself. She sobbed at the thought that one of the others would live only because Molly Weasley would give her life to make it so.

She continued to watch closely, memorizing as much as she could, cherishing each moment that might be the last for someone that she loved. She wanted to remember everything about each of them.

The night was to be historic, even in the eyes of the Enchanted beings. The lessons learned tonight would be ones that would be spun into folklore among them and kept for the ages. The outcome of the battle would impact the magical realm of the wizards for centuries.

She now promised herself that she would live for those centuries as a nymph and the least she could do was make certain that the tales of her wonderful family would be told and their names wouldn't be forgotten. Maybe that was her purpose here. She tried to draw comfort from that. It didn't help, but she hoped someday that it might.

When the dementors started arriving, the group of nymphs felt it first. It disturbed them at a profound, deep level and Ginny was a bit shocked to feel the immense impact of their presence. It was greatly different from the way she'd felt the presense of a dementor when she was a witch. In many ways, it was far worse. The nymphs could feel the void in the fabric of life that the creaturs created, even though they were at least a half mile away. Ginny looked to her sisters, confused and concerned.

Reya leaned closer and explained to her, "Nymphs, live in harmony with all life. We are the antithesis of such beings. Their very presence will harm the forest, when they leave, we will work to heal what they've touched." There was little that they could do now, as it was not the way of things, Reya explained.

The dementors had come to contain the battle and assist Voldemort. They hovered nearby, being held at bay by a variety of Patronus charms, but the charms were not enough to send them away entirely. No one would leave the area without the Dark Lord's permission, at least until the battle was finished.

Then came the giants. They were the worst for the wizards, because even the strongest of curses only succeeded in irritating them. They began their onslaught by tearing at the walls of the castle, dismantling the ancient structure and tossing the pieces into the crowd of battling wizards, completely disregarding the carnage they caused.

She screamed when she saw one headed toward where Percy and Charlie fought. The memory of her vision in the crystal flashed lividly through her mind, and she knew that she was about to watch the first of her family die. The cry caught in her throat, feeling like it was going to strangle her.

The giant swept away everything in his path using a club made from an entire tree. The next swipe was destined to crush Percy and, as much as she desperately wanted to look away, she couldn't bear to tear her eyes away from the sight.

Then, something happened. The killing blow never fell.

The giant stopped and looked behind himself, startled. As she followed his gaze, the cause became clear. Three centaurs, Tenere in the lead, had tossed ropes around the creature's club, effectively stopping the blow. The beast turned to the centaurs, looking confused by their action. Ginny watched as the centaurs spoke and, upon hearing their conversation, felt a shimmer of peace come over her, as if all was right in the Way of things, as Elora liked to say.

While the centaurs could care less about the fate of the wizards, good or bad, right or wrong, they could not condone outsiders choosing a side either. Whether or not wizards died was irrelevant to the centaurs, but whether or not the Enchanted beings fell, or caused others harm by choosing a side was quite relevant. The fate of the world of the wizards was their own, and the centaurs had been able to convey that to the giant.

After a few long minutes, the giant turned and followed them quietly back into the forest. Other giants soon followed, seeming to lose interest in the fight.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Percy had been spared, at least for the moment. The battle was far from over, but she took some solace in the fact that this was a clear difference in the outcome that she'd been shown last fall. Maybe her miracle was happening after all.

She turned to look at the others that she loved. Her view moved toward Fred and George, defending her mother near the castle wall. They were starting to appear in far less good humor, as the fatigue began wearing on them. They were holding the castle entryway, trying to keep the Death Eaters from entering, but too many of their group had fallen. She saw Bill moving near them to help, when the wall behind the twins was struck by a blast of brilliant red, causing it to shatter.

She gasped. They wouldn't see it in time. The wall was going to crush the twins easily, though she started to see her mother's fatal move of pushing Fred away. No sooner had she registered that fact when, unexpectedly, a protective charm blasted over their heads, sheltering the three from the falling stone just long enough for the three to get clear. Ginny assumed that the charm had come from Bill, knowing that he was in that direction. She followed its glow back to the sender, to silently thank him.

Except it wasn't Bill.

She was wondering how she could have missed that unique platinum blond hair in the sea of dark cloaks, but she'd been focusing on her family. She had no clue how long he'd been there. But he wasn't supposed to be there at all. He was supposed to be in hiding somewhere, using the distraction to take his family away from all this so that they could escape this carnage.

He was supposed to be safe. She felt simultaneously grateful and furious. All her hard work to redeem the prat, and he was going to get himself killed too.

She took in more of the scene. The twins and her mother had moved away from the dangerously crumbling wall and were now working to set up a better line of defense. She saw Bill, looking at Draco as if he'd just grown two heads and found herself smiling for a moment. If she could afford one good memory of this night, that one look was far more than she could have wished for.

- x - x -

Ginny looked back toward the the main objective of the battle, where Voldemort's defensive magic finally appeared to be faltering. Harry and Ron stood side by side defending Hermione as she chanted one of spells that was hopefully going to break down the barriers defending Voldemort. There were more bodies lying around them, both friend and foe. Ron had a gash on his arm and Harry was now tiring, but they seemed to be making progress. They were almost alone, focusing only on Voldemort. It seemed that they might actually succeed and she continued to pray that it would work.

But her eyes were drawn back to the rest of the battle. Her father had fallen injured and Ginny saw that Percy was tending to him, Charlie protecting them both. Her father would survive, as she recalled from the vision in the crystal ball, but the prediction gave her absolutely no comfort.

There was one pair that now held her attention above all others. The oddest pairing on the field. Bill and Draco, stood back to back, alternating defending the castle, other order members, and each other. They were amazing to watch, both strong and confident, both looking like they'd been experienced working together at this all their lives.

Her eldest brother had always been the one she'd most respected. Being the oldest and most mature, he'd always been the most protective of her even when she was small. She'd always adored him, as he had adored his baby sister. He had always been the picture of calm strength, the leader. Now, she found her love and respect for him grow even more tonight. Here he stood, in battle, beside the man responsible for his permanently scarred face, defending him as well as his own family. She was proud of her brother. She was proud of all of them.

- x - x - x

Somewhere in the fray, Voldemort fell. She didn't care how. The moment itself was notable, but the details were inconsequential. What was of importance was the fact that his death marked the moment when things actually became worse. With their leader fallen, the remaining Death Eaters now had nothing to lose. Their survival would only mean a life in prison, or at best, as a refugee. They were now desperate, and desperate people did desperate things.

As he'd predicted, Draco had become a clear target for his former associates. His position in the fight had been clear, and the surrounding Death Eaters did not take his traitorous actions lightly.

Random hexes were fired at him as soon as he was identified. She cringed each time, though many shots were wildly thrown. If not for Bill at his side, he would have been struck down on at least three occasions. Ginny found herself growing even more tense than she had been when the battle had begun. Her family had had several close calls, but none were like this.

It had turned into a hunt.

The rest of her family was now relatively safe. The entrance to the castle was no longer a target and her father had been moved inside for safety. The others were now moving toward defending the injured as they were being pulled from the battlefield.

But not Draco and Bill. They remained in the thick of everything, protecting those who were more vulnerable. Draco's unmistakable blond hair drew the attention of the Death Eaters, distracting them from others, and the two allies used that to their advantage, giving Bill the opportunity to stun or Stupify the attacker before they could strike.

One in particular was drawn to the pair with relentless determination. Ginny saw him and knew instantly that he was dangerous. As soon as Draco was visible, the Death Eater made his way purposefully and vengefully across the field, blasting any obstacle from his path. There was a clear, personal hatred that he showed toward the traitor. Amycus Carrow would not be stopped until he finished the young man who stood at Bill's side.

Ginny saw it all and willed herself to sit still. All the others had missed their predicted fate so far. All except Bill. Somehow, someway, something had happened to alter the course of events and they'd been spared from what she'd seen. In her vision, his death had been the last and she felt it had been too selfish to hope that something could have saved them all. With all those Weasleys, what were the odds?

She saw Bill duck from the latest hex that had been directed at his head, when he was suddenly and unexpectedly tripped, leaving him sprawled in the dirt, just as a flash exploded above his head. When he looked up, he saw that his blond partner had deliberately dumped him on the ground to save him from being hit from behind. As Bill fell away from the blaze of the curse, Draco fired over his head at the attacker that had been behind him.

He could have been killed but, once again, the man who wasn't supposed to even be there, had performed a simple act that saved a life.

The two men paused in that moment to share a grin. All animosity toward each other gone.

The pause was just long enough to give Amycus Carrow the perfect opening that he needed. He grinned maliciously as he raised his wand in the direction of the blond wizard.

In the moment that she saw the curse being sent, the panic and adrenaline in her system finally reached its limit. In that instant, she couldn't stand it anymore, feeling as if she were about to burst. She mentally pulled away from the sight, much in the same way one might pull their hand back after touching a hot cauldron.

Her heart was racing, and she was physically shaking with panic, but the scene before her was now frozen to a complete standstill. Each figure was stopped in mid-action, as if they had become sculptures. She was no longer a part of it, she couldn't bring herself to be.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calmly analyze what was happening in front of her. Nothing she saw made her heart slow even the slightest.

The curse was deadly, there was no doubt of that. When time resumed, it would hit him and he would die. Even his athletic reflexes wouldn't allow him time to move out of its way.

But he wasn't supposed to be here at all. He wasn't supposed to die. That had never been part of her vision, so during the entire battle she'd not truly considered it. Even as she'd watched and seen him under attack, somehow he'd been so perfect, so capable, so intent on protecting members of her family, that she hadn't fully comprehended that he'd been in danger at all - not until this very instant.

She took in the whole scene, trying to see and remember every detail. Bill was on the ground, turned toward the new attacker, in the process of shouting a warning, in the process of moving his wand to destroy Carrow, but it would be too late.

Draco was in the act of turning in the direction of Bill's warning. His short hair flying out like a halo around his head as he stood stopped in mid-spin. He wore a light wool cape tonight, which flared out around him, making his motion appear all the more dramatic, his wand hand gliding gracefully toward its next intended target. She noticed he was wearing a white shirt, a sharp contrast to the solid black that he'd preferred when she'd first met him. His tie had come loose and apparently had been lost in the battle, and the top few buttons of his shirt had been undone. Overall, he looked like a hero from an eighteenth century novel. He was a hero, her hero. The battle still raged, but he'd played a major role in altering the evevents, destroying the prophesy that had predicted the decimation of her family.

She looked at his eyes, wild and clear and with a hint of joy. He was unbelievably beautiful in that moment, looking powerful and confident. He'd succeeded in saving her brother and the triumph in his eyes showed. She realized that, in that moment, he'd found his purpose and was truly ready to take on the challenges of his own life and his own path. He looked like he could finally put his personal demons behind him. It was more than that. He'd found hope.

She loved him in that moment, and her heart tore in misery that he wouldn't live to succeed in all he longed for. He deserved a long, happy life. He deserved to have children. With all her heart she wanted him to live, but it wasn't going to be.

The flash from Carrow's wand had already been ignited and was aimed squarely at the blond. In an instant, the young man's life would be over and Ginny knew her heart would be broken for all eternity. All she had to do was allow herself to move back into the time stream.

She couldn't do it.

Elora's voice broke into the eerie stillness. "What is is child?" The elder nymph had somehow joined her in the frozen moment, and walked up to the young girl, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I can't... I can't let this happen..." she stammered, her eyes never leaving the frozen battle scene before her, her voice shaking in despair.

"There was always a cost, little one," her mentor explained gently. "Your bargain with us was for the lives of your family. It looks like the winds have chosen it to be at the cost of your love."

"No!" she shouted, the desperation of her plea making her voice sounding torn and ragged.

Elora said nothing, looking for all the world that she wished she could, but no words would comfort right now.

Ginny couldn't use magic. If she could, she could have called the winds to deflect the blow. Or caused the earth to shift just enough for him to fall out of the way. But her magic was chained by rules and powers beyond her comprehension. The next second was going to happen, and she could do nothing, except perhaps go to his side after it was done.

Or not.

The idea hit her with a profound clarity. She was outside of time. That was how the nymphs darted so artfully unseen. Ginny was shocked that it took her this many months to realize the brilliance of it. Nymphs weren't unrealistically fast, at all. Instead, they were outside of time when they moved. Time stood still while they ran from place to place, making it look as though they possessed uncanny speed.

She could be there, she could be by his side before the curse landed. She could stop this without using her magic.

With that thought, she was gone. Elora watched her go, a gentle smile lighting her face.

- x - x - x - x -

A/N - FYI, the entire story was written because the image of Draco turning in battle popped into my head. I wrote the entire fic to lead up to that one image. Inspiration is a funny thing, isn't it?

As always, your reviews and feedback are greatly valued. I spend a great deal of time writing, and all I ask is a little bit of recognition in return, so please take a few seconds to make me feel that my effort is worthwhile. Thanks


	18. Chapter 18 The Long Journey Home

As Bill registered that Draco had been the one to push him out of the way, he looked up and gave the young man a grateful nod. Draco smiled back, feeling good about himself. It wasn't quite arrogance, but he couldn't begrudge himself being just a bit smug.

He was about to turn back to the action at hand, trying to keep his mind on the current situation, when Bill's expression turned to one of alert, as the man looked past him and started aiming his wand.

Draco turned only to instantly recognize the deadly flash leaving Amycus Carrow's wand. '_So_', he thought, _'this is how it ends_'.

He had barely had an instant to face the idea of his own demise, when suddenly a warm body was in front of him and slender arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close.

The girl's body jerked as it absorbed the vicious curse and Draco felt her go limp, the scent of burning leaves reaching his nose a moment later. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of light come from Bill's wand and he knew that Carrow was no longer a threat.

His arms wrapped around the slender body that had just saved his life and he dropped to his knees, laying her gently on the trampled grass.

Her amber-green eyes looked up at him, as her grip around his neck loosened. She moved one hand and caressed his cheek and said simply, "My love." Her glance looked over his shoulder and she smiled as she saw Bill, content that he was still safe and alive and then she lost consciousness.

"No, no," Draco muttered almost to himself, still holding her as she became limp in his arms. He reached down to touch her face ignoring everything around them. "Ginny, what did you do?"

Bill reached his side a moment later and gasped as he recognized the girl lying mortally wounded on the grass. Both men stared at her in disbelief, one that the girl in question was his long-missing sister, the other still trying to comprehend her last words. Both of them taking a moment that felt like eternity to process what had just happened.

Bill spoke first. "Ginny? Oh, God, Ginny!"

"She's dying. I can feel it," Draco responded, tears coming to his eyes.

"God, no!" Bill reached for her. "Don't do this Gin-girl. Hang on. We'll get you to a healer. Please don't make me tell Mum."

Draco deflected Bill as he reached for her, moving to gather her to himself instead. There was no time to explain and he had only one desperate idea for what might save her. "A healer won't be able to help her" Draco said raggedly, picking her up and starting to move as fast as he was capable in the direction of the forest.

"What are you talking about Malfoy?" Bill demanded, laying a hand on the other's shoulder to stop him. "You aren't taking my sister anywhere. She needs help!"

'And quickly', Draco thought shaking off Bills grasp as he continued to move toward the forest. With each step, he could feel the magic leaving her body, it almost felt like a fluid falling from her, going back to the earth from where it came, her dress of green leaves already withering and dying on her body.

It spurred Draco to move faster.

Bill followed, easily keeping up. "Malfoy, answer me! What is going on?"

A curse flew past them, causing Bill to be distracted from his line of questioning and deal with the attacker while trying to protect Draco and Ginny. By the time he caught up, Draco was already well on his way toward the Forbidden Forest, a look of determination etched clearly on his face.

Draco explained to him between breaths as he hurried down the hillside, "She's not a witch, not anymore. She's not mortal, as they call us. I've got to get her to the forest. They're the only ones that can help her."

"Son of a ..." Bill started to say, but was interrupted by having to curse another Death Eater intent on doing them harm. They were attracting too much attention. Bill fought to clear a path for the man carrying his injured sister. "Dammit Malfoy, couldn't you have worn a hooded cloak or something? That damnable blond head of yours is like a beacon to these bastards."

"Oh and that red ponytail is so much less conspicuous..." he muttered in reply, as they moved away from the bulk of the activity.

Bill felt compelled to demand some sort of answer from this man. "So you lied to me. When I came to ask about her, you lied about knowing where she was."

"Not at the time. No." He was almost sorry that his answers were so abbreviated, but, it was hard to hurry, carrying Ginny's limp weight. He was tiring quickly from the effort of carrying her and he couldn't afford to slow his pace. Spending effort to chatter with her brother was not worth his energy right now. Like it or not, he was going to need help to get her there faster and her brother was much stronger than he. He paused and looked at his little nymph's brother as earnestly as he could.

"Bill, please, help me get her to the forest. It's her only chance."

Maybe it was the fact that the boy had fought by his side and saved his life, maybe it was the desperation in his voice, but Bill couldn't say why he chose to believe him. He could have easily just stunned Draco and taken Ginny away from him and back up to the castle to a healer. Instead he reached out his arms and took the girl from him,moving down the path that Draco seemed to be so familiar with.

- - - -

It was almost a half mile to the edge of the forest, but it seemed much farther to the two men as they moved from the battlefield. The ranks of Death Eaters were thinning, as some escaped, others now dead. The bodies scattered around made their trek agonizingly slow and difficult. They had to work to protect each other as well as Ginny against an endless array of curses. The took turns carrying the dying girl while the other tried to keep the path clear.

The were nearly out of the field, almost half way there, when they came to the dementors.

"Just what we need," Bill growled, firing his Patronus with particular venom toward the faceless monsters.

Even as the creatures cleared away, the despair that they promoted hung heavily in the air. Draco choked back his fear that his nymph might not last long enough to reach the others. Then he thought that, with their ridiculous rules, the Enchanted beings might refuse to help one of their own. The thoughts seemed to cause Ginny's deteriorating condition to expedite. He felt the magic seep from her even faster than before. He fought back the dread by thinking of every happy thought he could, unfortunately, every happy thought he could possibly recall seemed to involve his nymph.

"We should levitate her," Bill suggested. "We'll be able to move faster."

Draco shook his head, holding her more securely, "No. I think holding her is the only thing that's keeping her together right now." Maybe not, but he felt that way. If she was going to die, he was going to make sure that she was being held by someone who cared about her.

It was Bill's turn to carry her when they finally entered the canopy of the forest. Draco lighted his wand to show the path, not that he needed it as he knew every step of the way by heart but Bill didn't. Their progress slowed significantly as the rough terrain, combined with the darkness made every step seem more difficult.

Draco was practically beside himself with panic when they finally, they reached the clearing. This was the place where Draco had first come across the abandoned clothing, where he'd first seen his red-haired nymph, where he'd fallen in love with her. He hoped it wouldn't be where she would die.

He stopped. The others were there, he was certain of it, just as he was certain that they had to know what had happened. Bill followed slowly, carrying his sister's dying body, wondering if he'd done the right thing.

It was several long, tense moments before he was certain she arrived. Turning to look behind them, he breathed a sigh of relief. Elora stood, looking like a sweet, innocent child, waiting for him, her blue eyes intense with ancient knowledge.

"You've returned her to us," she smiled.

He didn't bother with any preamble and got straight to the point. "Please, help her," he said.

The nymph looked at them curiously, as if surprised she needed to explain. "She gave you a gift, to save you. Her magic will leave her now, as is the way of things. She belongs with the wind and the earth. She must return to them."

Bill looked quickly between the two, confused about why Draco was asking something like this from what appeared to be a child. He almost jumped in surprise when Draco responded harshly to the girl "But she's not! She was born among the wizards, she belongs with us. You used her. You used us both, didn't you!"

His voice was angry and accusing. He wasn't stupid. Sometime during the battle and the long journey back to this forest, he'd made the connection. These beings were restricted from directly interfering in the ways of wizards, but they were allowed to 'guide'. They wanted peace and the only way they could sway the battle was to guide them in finding Voldemort's weakness. They'd been tools in the nymphs' greater purpose.

Elora raised an eyebrow in interest. He'd apparently hit a nerve, and her reaction proved he was correct.

He continued, hoping his argument would spur her to do the right thing. "The rules, the limitations you gave her. You needed us to find the answers because you and your kind weren't allowed to interfere, so you used us to help defeat him."

"We did nothing that you didn't request of us. You both came seeking help. We only guided you."

"Nevertheless, we helped you, because you weren't allowed to do it yourselves. You owe us. You owe her! " he said, pointing a shaky finger at Ginny's limp form.

Her gaze showed a spark of keen intensity. The elder nymph was sly, for certain. "And who asks this of us?" she asked quickly.

"I do," Draco answered. He looked at Bill and added, "we do. Her family and I ask."

"And who are you to her that she means so much?" directing her question specifically to Draco.

He paused at the rather odd question. Damn the Enchanted ones with their riddles. She knew who he was. He found himself wanting to state the prestigious Malfoy name at the nymph and demand retribution. Ginny did not deserve this fate, it was his fate to die and she stole it from him, and he would trade it back in a second. She had a family that loved her and needed her, he couldn't deny them that.

Then he realized that his name and family meant nothing to this ancient being who stood before him. What was he? How could he answer? Only one thing came to mind and he hoped it was enough.

"Someone who loves her," he croaked out simply.

Elora smiled, her eyes brightening with joy.

"Then place her here," she motioned to the same spot where he'd once noticed Ginny's school robes on the ground, the place where the vestiges of her old life had been abandoned and transformed into greenery. Bill looked at Draco, his face showing shock and confusion but didn't question as he laid his sister's body gently on the spot, kneeling by her side.

"You may go now," she directed Bill. "Wait by the forest edge," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I will let you know when it is done."

"I'd rather not..." he started to say, but stopped at the nymph's firm gaze.

He and Draco exchanged a fearful look, neither wanting to leave Ginny's side. Hesitantly, they both began to leave the clearing, but Elora placed a hand on Draco's arm. "You must stay, as the one who has joined with her. Your power will be required."

Bill gave Draco an odd look, "I guess there's no choice," he said.

"There is little time," Elora reminded them. The words spurred Bill to give Draco a quick nod before he vanished down the narrow path.

Draco watched him go and as he turned back to Ginny, he found that they were no longer alone. The clearing was suddenly filled with a dozen or so nymphs. A boy's dream of lovely creatures, yet he only had eyes for the one lying broken on the forest floor.

He impulsively reached for Ginny and was grateful that Elora did not stop him. He took her hand, feeling the the warmth of her fading as his other hand moved to caress her cheek. Her green leaf dress was now dry and cracking away leaving her barely covered. There was no time left, he was losing her and that thought was worse than anything he'd ever known. He looked down at her sweet face and silently begged for her to hang on just a bit longer.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, as Elora came to stand behind him, one hand placed on his shoulder, the other joining with the nymph next to her. The other nymphs joined hands, forming a circle around them. Quietly, the Enchanted began to chant in ancient, rhythmic tones. It wasn't musical in the traditional sense, but it was harmonious with the breeze and the trees and the fireflies in the wood.

Draco found himself to be lulled by the sound as a sense of peace and calm began to surround him almost like a physical presence. It was an odd feeling, almost like passing through the Enchanted gateway, but far more intimate. Instead of being a visitor to that magical realm, he felt as if he was becoming a part of it.

Then he felt a sudden burst of magic that was more powerful than anything that he'd ever imagined flow through him and into Ginny's broken body.

His sense of time suddenly became multidimensional. Whatever was happening seemed to take only an instant, yet lasted an eternity. He didn't care. He would stay there for an eternity if it meant that she was still alive, no matter how faintly.

During that time, he remained frozen in place, feeling Ginny's life flow under his touch. But that was only a small part of what he'd suddenly been made aware. He also saw the forest through the eyes of the Enchanted and understood why they didn't fight. They were of the earth and the ether and beyond the petty squabbles of wizards. They ebbed and flowed with the fabric of life in the universe. It was ancient beyond measure, powerful beyond comprehension and completely harmonious. Death had no meaning, as it was only a phase of being to be cherished.

He tried to wrap his mind around the concepts, but as quickly as they came, they were gone from him, leaving him with a sense of loss. He opened his eyes, not realizing when in the journey he'd closed them, to find the clearing empty and dark. His sadness lifted immediately, however, as soon as he realized that Ginny was still there, no longer having the pallor of death, but looking healthy and very much alive.

Elora appeared, pulling him from his thoughts. "She has been returned to the mortals," she said simply.

He breathed a sigh of relief, brushing his hand against her pink cheek, feeling immensely grateful. "Thank you."

"There is nothing to thank. She will still die, except it will be at a later time - a mere 50 or 60 years. We have changed nothing, only altered the means."

He had to smile at her choice of words. He'd seen enough to understand her statement completely. "The phase of existence doesn't matter. It's still life," he said, trying to put words to what he'd just seen.

"Ahh, you understand," Elora smiled, looking at him like a teacher would look at a bright student. She looked at him quizzically. "You would like to know more."

He nodded. "It seems fascinating."

Her eyes brightened with a hint of mischief, " You could perhaps come with us if you wish. There is much to be learned."

Her suggestion surprised him. Ginny had said there were males among them, though she'd never seen any. The thought of exploring the cosmos with these beings was an intriguing offer but he shook his head negatively, laughing to himself at the thought of spending a nearly immortal life in the forest with the nymphs. Ginny would never forgive him.

He looked down at her sleeping form. "Ginny had difficulty with it," he said.

"She... was impatient.." Elora replied, not unkindly.

"She's a Weasley," he smiled back.

Elora smiled. "Yes, she is. She has learned a great deal and has grown beyond her own expectations. Her accomplishment has taught us much about your kind. We will miss her."

"Her family will be glad to have her back," he said, looking once more at her quiet form. "Is there a reason she's not awake yet?"

"She will sleep, a long time. She must heal."

He nodded, remembering his need to sleep after Reya had healed him. "I'll look after her."

"Yes, you will," she responded knowingly. There was something in her wizened look that made him think that there was more to this statement than the obvious. With a last farewell smile, Elora darted away from him, leaving him alone with his former nymph.

He suddenly felt tired. Not simply tired, but exhausted beyond words.

Ginny looked to be sleeping peacefully. Her dress had all but disintegrated and Draco quickly removed his cloak, wrapping it securely around her small frame.

Bill would likely come back soon, and he suddenly found that he hadn't the energy to move just yet. He sat down with his back against the nearest tree, gathered the sleeping girl in his arms and promptly fell asleep.

Which was how Bill found them a short time later. His sister safely snuggled in Draco's arms, sitting in his lap, with her head against his shoulder. The boy in question had his arms wrapped around her  
waist possessively, as if she might disappear if he dared to release her. His head was leaned awkwardly back against the tree trunk and he was softly snoring.

Bill might have found the situation sweet, if the pair didn't happen to include his baby sister and the man he'd had a personal grudge against for the past year.

After that thought, came the realization that the rest of his family was up at the castle and the battle was all but over. He'd watched it slowly end from the forest edge, feeling guilty about not fighting till the very end. But, his sister's life came first and now he wanted to get back and find out if the others were safe. Nap time was over, for at least one of them.

He nudged Draco awake.

"I think it's time to get out of here, before the nastier creatures around here figure out where we are," Bill said.

"Agreed," Draco mumbled. He'd never felt unsafe in the forest before, but now things had changed. It was not the time to push his luck. Prior to this, he'd had his own personal nymph for protection, now, she was just a normal witch and just as vulnerable as the rest of them.

Bill reached down to take his sleeping sister, Draco reluctantly releasing her to her brother's care. Together, they began to slowly trudge back to the castle, Draco quickly realizing that whatever had transpired in the healing ritual had sapped every last ounce of energy from him.

The two men spoke very little along the way. Bill burdened with carrying and Draco too tired to make conversation. Ultimately, Bill's curiosity overrode his fatigue.

"So what did they mean back there, Malfoy? Why did they pick you to help her?"

"They have an odd sort of logic. It doesn't always make sense."

"Don't start that. You know what I mean. What Ginny said when she saved your miserable life and you said you loved her. At some point it will all come out. It will make it easier if you tell me the truth now, while my hands are full."

Draco gave a deep sigh. Bill was right, of course. It would all come out eventually and it was best that he broke the news in the most positive way possible. "Ginny and I worked together to find the weakness in the Dark Magic. We've been studying it together for a few months."

"You knew she was alive, and you didn't tell me."

"If you recall, I did tell you. You chose to not believe me."

Bill snorted a partial laugh. "Fair point," he responded, but then his tone turned to be more serious. "What exactly happened back there?"

"I'm not exactly sure."

Bill gave him a stern look.

"I'm serious. If I knew how to put it into words, I'd tell you, but I can't."

"What was that girl, Elora? Who is she?"

"Congratulations, Weasley, you've just encountered the rare, almost mythical, forest nymph."

"You're joking."

"I'm too tired to joke. She's responsible for Ginny being missing all this time. Not me."

"And you failed to tell me anything about it."

"I was sworn to secrecy."

Bill gave him a sour expression. "Is there more that I should know about?" Bill asked, the suspicion in his tone implying that he knew that there was far more to the relationship than simply studying spells.

Draco didn't have the energy to deal with that right now. "I'd rather let her tell the rest," he said, hoping it would satisfy him for the moment.

Bill nodded, too tired to argue.

The morning light was breaking over the hills and the battlefield came into view. It had been so active with firefight only hours before that, by contrast, it was now eerily still. Bodies lay in the trampled  
grass. Silently, witches and wizards moved among them, looking for those that might still be alive but injured.

Draco scanned the bodies for familiar faces, many were Death Eaters and he felt no sorrow for their loss. These were the people who would have taken his freedom from him and made him a servant of the Dark Lord. He did not regret their demise.

He noticed Bill didn't look down, almost in fear of what he might find. "I don't see any of yours here," he informed the other man.

"Thanks," Bill grunted in reply.

They reached the castle as the morning sun finally broke over the horizon. The entrance hall was alive with activity. Injured were in every available space and those who were able were bustling around, assisting in some sort of coordinated activity.

"I was going to bring her to the medical ward but I don't think that would be very useful right now," Bill grumbled tiredly.

He put Ginny down in a slightly less busy section of the Great Hall, so that he could look around the room more easily. She was obviously still sleeping soundly.

Draco knelt by her side to gently pat her cheek, hoping to wake her and get her to stand or walk on her own and she groggily opened her eyes. She recognized him and smiled. "You're alive," she mumbled drowsily. She turned and saw Bill and her smile widened further. "You're both alive. I'm so glad," she said and promptly fell back into slumber, almost as if she was under a sleeping potion.

"Elora said she needs sleep," Draco informed him.

"She said the same to me," Bill agreed. "It was some powerful magic that they used. We aren't meant to handle that."

"It was. Maybe I'll tell you about it someday."

"Maybe," Bill said, looking at him sharply. He wanted to know how this boy seemed to be so close to his sister, but now was not the time. He had family to find. "I've got to find my folks. I've got to see if they are alright and let them know Ginny's here."

"We can't leave her here, she'll probably get trampled."

"Agreed. Can you get her up to her room in Gryffindor tower?"

"I can try. I'm having a bit of a tough time of it. The spell they used pretty much took everything out of me."

Bill nodded in reluctant understanding, "Well, just get her someplace out of the way and keep an eye on her. We'll find you later. "

Draco nodded, and summoned up enough strength to lift Ginny one more time. "Come along little nymph," he said softly to her, "just a little farther and we'll let you sleep to your heart's content."

"Ok," she mumbled back, waking enough to put her arms around his neck and bury her head into his shoulder.

The eldest Weasley watched as the two left the hall in the direction of the dormitories. He found himself surprised at the thought, no, the certainty, that she was completely safe with a young man that  
until a few hours ago, he'd hated and distrusted completely.

This would be rather difficult to explain to his parents, providing they were still alive. Praying that they were, and knowing that the first thing they'd want to know was that he'd found Ginny alive and safe, he turned back to the hall and began searching for the familiar sight of red hair.

- - - -

A/N - Ok - it's not quite over yet! But I wanted to get this posted quickly. Actually, there is still a section in this chapter that I think is very rough, but I'm posting it anyway, due to popular demand.

As always, please take a moment to hit the review button. Thanks in advance.


	19. Chapter 19 Reunion

Final Chapter - Reunion

Draco walked towards the stairs, intent on delivering his charge to her own dormitory. Then, his exhausted mind took in the sight of the stairs. Four floors of stairs. And there were likely more of them once he persuaded his way into the Gryffindor tower.

He looked to his left and saw the stairs down, one flight, to his own common room. At about that moment, an indelicate snore escaped from the girl in his arms as her head fell back against his arm.

His very tired arm.

Decision made, he walked down the stairs to his own room.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

A few minutes later, he walked through an eerily empty Slytherin common area. His house mates had either deserted or died in the recent fight, he presumed. In either case, he was glad that none of them were there right now. He didn't need questions regarding his activity, as he was far too tired to suffer their foolish questions. Besides, being detained for any reason was almost unthinkable because the girl in his arms was feeling heavier by the moment.

He moved quickly to his room and deposited her as gently as possible onto his bed. It didn't matter that it was a rather inelegant gesture, since a better description was that she was dropped there simply because his arms couldn't hold her up any longer.

His next task was to remove her from the restrictive bulk of the cloak in which she'd been wrapped and, to her credit, she tried to wake up enough to help him before she crawled under the covers. He watched her sleepy movements and found that he was highly amused.

Now that she was safe, he had been able to appreciate her lack of attire. He did give a brief thought of giving her something to wear but, truth be told, he liked her this way and besides, he was too exhausted to make the effort. In fact, he was quite certain that he didn't have the energy to do anything more than sleep himself, so, he decided there was no harm in leaving her as she was. There would be plenty of time for both of them to put on clothing later.

He stripped down to his underwear and crawled into the narrow bed beside her. Being the first time he'd managed to have her in an actual bed with him and he took a moment to happily appreciate that fact. When he pulled her close, she willingly curled into him, draping her arm lazily across his torso, as her head once again found his shoulder to be an adequate pillow.

He kissed her softly on the lips and watched her drowsily smile in return. Then, they both drifted off into the deep slumber their healing bodies demanded.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

He awoke sometime during mid afternoon, feeling still tired, though marginally better than before. His little nymph still had both arms around him, though now they were wrapped possessively around his neck and she had one leg draped across his lower body.

He loved it.

As he took the time to analyze the situation, he came to the conclusion that he possibly loved it just a bit too much as there was only so much that his hormones could stand. His next thought was to wonder if she'd gotten enough sleep yet and contemplated waking her, since he'd rapidly come to realize that certain parts of him were quickly becoming more awake by the moment. He smiled at the thought.

Unfortunately, the happy moment was quite rudely interrupted by the sound of voices and then his door being opened with such sudden force that he was surprised that the thing remained on its hinges. He looked up in alarm, not having time to even reach for his wand, and identified the intruders as Ron Weasley, backed the the ever-annoying Potter and oh-so-know-it-all Granger. They were likely the three people, still alive, that he least wanted to see at the moment and he took in the sight of the three of them, standing in the doorway, with identical expressions of horror.

Draco suddenly had the profound thought that, if he hadn't used up all his wishes last night to beg for Ginny's life, he might have traded one for a camera right about then.

While he'd been somewhat reformed over the past year, he doubted he would ever be considered an angel, and felt the compulsive urge to use the moment for all it was worth. There were few moments in life that presented such an ideal opportunity, and before he could even think to stop himself, he spoke. "You could have knocked first," he said, a devilish smirk coming to his lips as he made sure they saw him tighten his hold protectively on the girl who was currently in his arms, still quite soundly asleep.

Ron was the first of the three to recover from the sight of the two of them together, as his temper obviously took control of him. He responded by viciously pointing his finger at the couple in the bed, his voice shaking with immediate and barely controlled rage. "What the hell are you doing with my sister?" .

The danger of the battle had long passed and Draco was well aware of the fact that he'd survived hell in the last twelve hours. While he'd had been alarmed when they initially burst into the room, it only took him a moment to realize that they were no real threat to him.

Once the concept had firmly settled in his mind, he simply couldn't help himself. There were just too many years of animosity between them to simply not continue and Draco thought the Weasel's fury was absolutely glorious. All recently formed alliances aside, he came to the rapid and only mildly malicious conclusion that he would never, ever tire of watching Ron Weasley completely lose his temper.

Draco's smile didn't waver. "Nothing yet, but if you had waited a few more minutes, you might have seen first hand. But she needs her sleep right now, so I'd appreciate it if you kept your voices down," he stated rather smugly.

He was quickly rewarded for the remark by the rather amazing sight of Ron's face as it went from red to almost purple. The only thing that gave Draco pause, was when he wondered if the fellow was going to hurt himself and, unfortunately, came to the realization that Ginny wouldn't appreciate it if he taunted her brother to death.

Ginny stirred at the commotion, causing Draco to disregard any other expressions of interest from the intruders as he turned to look at her with affection. She hadn't yet noticed the others and was looking up at him sleepily. He pulled her close, his smile growing wider as she made a small noise and snuggled closer.

"Get. Away. From. Her. Right. NOW!" Ron shouted, storming forward and pointing his wand squarely in Draco's chest. With a mild feeling of regret, Draco came to the realization that his fun time was over.

Ginny pulled away, blinking as she began to awaken more fully and tried to focus on the person who'd just shouted. Granger and Potter rushed to Ginny's side of the bed. Ginny, still groggy, turned and spotted them, her face lighting with joy.

She reached out and impulsively hugged Hermione, causing the sheets to fall away, revealing her bare upper body. Ginny seemed oblivious to the fact, squealing her joy at the fact that her brother and his friends were alive and well.

"God, Ginny! Get some clothes on!" Ron exclaimed, still standing at the foot of the bed, his hand raising to cover his eyes. Potter was blushing profusely and Granger was speechless.

Draco continued to enjoy the show with every fiber of his being, in fact, he fought to contain his elation as the scene played out before him. He truly felt that he couldn't have paid for better entertainment, despite the fact that it had just deprived him of close contact with his naked ex-nymph.

Ron turned back to Draco, "And YOU! Get out of that bed right now or I swear there won't be enough of you left to bury!" Ron yelled.

Ginny looked down and suddenly became aware of her state of undress. She quickly pulled the sheets up to her neck and looked at her friends, her expression and odd mix of happiness and embarrassment.

Draco at the same time, with a wand pointed threateningly at his chest, got out of the bed, finding himself grateful that he'd left his underwear on before getting in the bed. He raised his hands in mock surrender, still working to suppress the grin that he desperately wanted to wear.

"Ron!" Ginny shouted to distract her infuriated brother. "Put that wand down this instant!" Ron looked at her as if he'd completely forgotten she was capable of speech. She sounded just like their mother at that moment and the tone pulled him momentarily from his murderous thoughts.

Lacking a proper outlet for his pent up rage, he turned his frustration on his sister. "We've been looking all over for you. Worried sick, after Bill told us what happened. You were supposed to be in Gryffindor and instead we find you here. With HIM! Like THIS!!!" he motioned to the bed and their obvious state of undress. "You've been missing for months, and THIS is how we get to welcome you back? Mum is upstairs looking for you and is just about ready to have kittens!"

Draco backed away from the shouting siblings, using the distraction to gather his pants as unobtrusively as possible.

"It's not like I've had any chance to talk to anyone. I barely remember anything since last night!" Ginny shouted back at her brother with equal volume and enthusiasm, causing Draco to make a mental note to never allow her to be that angry with him.

But her explanation did little to calm her brother as his tantrum was now well underway. He turned his rage back to Draco, who had only succeeded in getting one leg into his trousers during the distraction. "You drugged her, didn't you?" Ron accused.

Draco paused as he realized that Ron had now focused that wand back to him. Weighing his options, he figured they wouldn't kill a man who was just trying to put on his pants, so he finished the action before he spoke. "No, Weasley, I did NOT drug her. If you listened to Bill, you'll know that we both needed to recover from our particular adventure last night."

"So you brought her HERE? And I don't even want to THINK about how I just saw her dressed... or...er... not..."

Draco sighed. He really didn't feel like verbally sparring with these morons. He was still tired, and hungry, and he had a pretty girl in his bed that he wanted to get back to. Quickly.

Ginny saved him from responding. "Leave him alone, Ron," she said in a quiet but rather authoritative tone.

Hermione, who was still sitting on the bed holding Ginny, interrupted, apparently hoping to make Ginny see their absurd form of logic. "Ginny, honey, we've got to get you out of here. You don't know what you're saying," she said.

Ginny pulled back, staring at her friends. The immediate threat to Draco was over and she was finally awake enough to pull her thoughts together. Most of the events of the previous night came crashing back to her, right up until the instant that she'd darted in front of the curse aimed at Draco. She suddenly realized that she didn't have the answers to what she held most dear, the reason she'd sacrificed so much over the last few months.

She looked away from Hermione's concerned gaze and let go of Harry's hand, ignoring his hurt and worried expression. She turned to Ron, all traces of anger gone as her tone became desperate. "Ron, tell me. Is everyone alright? Mum, Dad, everybody? Did they survive?"

Ron looked down in shame, realizing that his priorities had been misplaced when his temper took over upon entering that room. Ginny stared at him, eyes wide with fear, clearly thinking that she was about the hear the worst news imaginable. It deflated his temper almost immediately, as he responded, "They're all fine, Gin. We all made it, though for the life of me, I don't know how. "

He looked her in the eyes and smiled tiredly, his renewed sense of relief that they'd survived causing his anger to dissipate as quickly as it had sparked.

Ginny smiled at her brother in love and relief. All was right in the world, just as Elora said it would be. Draco watched as the joy lit her face and felt his heart soar with hers.

"That's so wonderful," she said, her grin widening. She leaned back and closed her eyes, appearing as if an enormous burden had finally been lifted from her. She turned and smiled at Hermione, and then, her gaze settled on Potter.

Draco felt his chest tighten. Despite her words last night, he waited to see her reaction. It was her choice, he knew, and he'd accept whatever her decision. Potter was the hero of the world and Ginny had no memory of his and Bill's efforts to save her. It didn't matter, he supposed. He'd rather not have her judge him by that one rash act.

But her reaction didn't answer his question. She looked at all of them lovingly, so he couldn't tell if there was something special or not for Potter.

After a long, awkward moment, where none seemed to know what to say, she broke the silence. "You all look like you need some sleep. I'm afraid I do too. Whatever happened to me was bad, wasn't it?"

"You almost died, Ginny," Harry answered. "Bill said you were close, very close to not making it."

"I thought so," she agreed quietly.

"It was foolish, Gin," Ron interrupted, his righteous anger returning as he thought about the reason why she was there. "You could have died for what? HIM?" he motioned to Draco, still standing by the bed, watching the conversation intently.

"I had to Ron," she said calmly. "I love him."

There, Draco thought. His heart could start beating again. And once again, he found he could amuse himself with the various looks of shock on display in the room. Potter's was most interesting, as his was filled with the same longing and hurt that Draco had been feeling only moments ago. For the first time in his life, he felt a bit of empathy for the git. But he let himself get over it quickly.

Potter continued to linger near her, once again taking her hand, but she kept her gaze on Draco as he pulled on his shirt. He wanted very badly to crawl back into bed and hold her but he knew that wouldn't be possible for the time-being.

"I'll go upstairs and try to explain what I can to your parents," he said. "I'm sure mine are worried about me as well."

She nodded in response and it became obvious that she was still exhausted, barely keeping her eyes open.

"Are you alright, Ginny?" Potter asked, still looking at her in a way that Draco did not appreciate. Something told him that there would be more from Potter before this was over, after all, the git was more than a bit thick but he tried not to let that dampen his good mood.

"I'm just so tired," she responded, smiling at him and holding his hand tightly. "Can I please just go back to sleep and talk to Mum and Dad in a little while?" she asked.

Potter nodded uncertainly, apparently not wanting to upset her.

She looked back at Draco, "Will you be coming back soon?"

"I'm going to see if there's some food to be scavenged around here, after I send word to my parents," he smiled softly at her. "I'll bring you something?"

"Yeah," she smiled as she lay back down, sleep getting ready to claim her again.

Ron took the moment to try to take some control of the situation. This was SO not acceptable in his view. "Nuh-uh. No way Gin. What would Mum and Dad say? And they want to see you, and NOT all of you, like this."

"I'll stay with her," Granger offered. Ron growled in response. He obviously was unhappy with the idea of her staying in this particular room, but was steadily losing the argument.

"She needs more sleep. They warned us that she would," Draco added.

Ginny nodded in agreement. "Draco, can I borrow something?"

"Certainly," he responded, smirking with more enthusiasm than he felt he ever could muster in ten lifetimes. The girl had a way of making him happy beyond reason. He started digging in his bureau for pajamas that he handed to her.

"You can all leave so I can put these on in private, please," she said sweetly. Draco noted how Ron was absolutely shaking with unresolved fury. It took every ounce of willpower to not openly laugh, though, as the last one out, he grinned like the Cheshire cat at his nymph and she smiled softly back.

"I'm sending Mum down here to check on you, so make sure you stay decent!" she heard Ron call out before the door closed.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - -

Arriving in the Great Hall, Draco noticed that Granger was not with them, apparently keeping her word to stay with Ginny while they went to fetch her parents. He would have been more annoyed, but he was too distracted by the fact that he was in desperate need of a shower and some food. At the moment, he preferred to get past the ugly task of facing her parents so he could get on with his own business.

They found the Weasley parents amidst the activity in the Great Hall, Draco immediately noticing how her mother was nervously tending to everyone around her in an attempt to remain calm. The healers from St. Mungos had arrived and Mrs. Weasley seemed busy handing out sandwiches and goblets of juice. When the three boys walked over to her, she looked up hopefully, only to have her expression fall in disappointment when she realized Ginny wasn't with them.

"She's in the dungeons, Mum," Ron announced before anyone could voice a question. "She's alright, like Bill says. It just looks like she needs sleep. She barely woke up long enough to say hello to us."

Draco was surprised that Weasley's voice showed no sign of anger or agitation. In fact, he seemed calm and was trying to impart the same calm to his mother. For the first time since, well, since ever, he almost was impressed by the red-headed boy.

Molly turned to Draco in that moment. "You're the boy who saved her?" she said shakily.

He didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that Weasley and Potter were likely staring daggers at him, and would probably hex him to death if he upset the witch. But he didn't need their intervention, this was Ginny's mother, and besides, it would only raise their hackles further if he didn't act the way they expected.

Putting on his most respectful and polite demeanor, he responded, "I wouldn't say that, Ma'am. I never would have gotten her to the ones who could help if it weren't for Bill."

Molly smiled at him, moving forward and wrapping him in an enormous hug, to the point that he wondered if she might be intentionally suffocating him. He awkwardly returned the embrace, eventually pulling away with a very staged shy smile.

As she pulled away, her happy tears still shining on her face, her expression turned a bit more stern. "Bill also said that you knew where she was all this time, and that you were the one who left the note at Christmas."

He heard Ron give a chuckle behind him, apparently, he was treading on dangerous ground if he answered incorrectly. He schooled his expressions carefully as he spoke. "Yes, Ma'am, I found her a few weeks after she disappeared. I would have told you more, but I was sworn to secrecy," he said, looking earnestly into her eyes.

He glanced up to see that Bill had now joined the group and was staring at him with amusement. He continued to focus on Mrs. Weasley, occasionally giving his most earnest expression to Mr. Weasley as well. "I know she missed you, and she talked about you frequently but I assure you she had a reason for staying hidden. I am so very sorry that I couldn't do more, but I think she'd skin me alive if I broke my word, even now."

Molly looked at him and her expression melted with understanding. "I know she can be a bit of a handful. Thank you for looking out for her."

"It was the least I could do, Mrs. Weasley. I'm just glad that she's back now, safe and sound."

He heard a choking sound come from behind him, and was quite sure it was Ron. It took every ounce of skill he possessed to suppress a grin.

"If you don't mind, Mrs. Weasely, Mr. Weasley, I'd really like to send word to my parents that I'm well."

"Of course, dear," Molly said in understanding.

He looked to Bill, "If you don't mind letting me know where they are?"

"I'll tell you on the way to the owlry," Bill replied. "I hope there are a few still up there. I think most flew off in the mayhem."

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - -

Ginny dressed in the black silk pajamas, and crawled back into the warm bed, feeling more content than she had in a very, very long time. All was right with the world. She was looking forward to seeing her parents and brothers again, so very much. And as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but give a small laugh over how she and Ron had argued as if they'd spent no time apart at all.

She had barely put her head on the pillow, when Hermione walked back into the room and sat down with a book.

"You don't have to stay, Hermione. I'll be fine."

"Ginny, we're in the Slytherin dungeon and, besides, I promised Ron," Hermione answered rather abruptly. Apparently, she didn't really want to be there either.

"Ugh," she replied, but didn't have the energy to speak further, and began drifting off to sleep again. Her mind had just started drifting into some odd dream about flowers growing around the bed, when she was brutally torn from her sleep once again by the sound of people noisily bursting into the room.

Her temper flared. All she wanted was to sleep and she assumed that Ron had returned to nag her further. She opened her eyes, ready to give him a sisterly piece of her mind and saw... her parents, standing there with their mouths open in a mixture of joy and shock.

She knew they were in the castle, as Ron had said so earlier, but her tired mind hadn't fully accepted the fact.

"Mum? Dad? Am I dreaming?" she said, forcing herself awake once again.

Her mother shook her head, tears now streaming unchecked down her cheeks. "My baby!" Molly exclaimed in response, rushing to her daughter's side. Ginny reached out with open arms and caught her mother's enormous hug, as her mother pulled her into her arms. An overwhelming sense of comfort and peace fell over Ginny in that moment.

"Oh Mum, I missed you so much!" she said, her words muffled because her face was pressed firmly into her mother's bosom.

Her father joined them at that moment, sitting on the other side of the bed. Ginny pulled free of her mother's smothering grasp, and hugged her father with equal enthusiasm.

"What happened, Ginny?" her father asked, as he held her, giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

"Oh Dad, it was amazing. I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you, but they said that it was the only way for them to help. I thought it had something to do with the magic they have but it was so much more."

"What magic?" he asked. "Bill said there were people in the forest."

She looked at both her parents, the twins now had entered the room and were standing near the door. She looked up and brightened further at seeing more of her family alive and well.

"Bill said they were women," George said.

"...and that they were gorgeous," the other completed.

The matching grins on the twins faces made her grin as well. She decided it was best to explain at least a little. There would be plenty of time to relay her entire story later. "They were wood nymphs," she explained, "and I seem to recall recently thinking of how the both of you would get along quite well with them," she answered, wiping away the happy tears.

The matched set of idiotically happy expressions on her brothers' faces in response only made her laugh and cry harder. Her father tightened his hold around her and she relaxed in the comfort of his embrace. Only a few moments later, she was once again sound asleep.

When she awoke again, she was in her father's arms in the Gryffindor common room.

"Come, sweetheart," her mother said. "Do you think you can manage the stairs by yourself?"

She nodded, allowing her mother to wrap an arm around her and lead her up the stairs. "We're all rather tired, Sweetheart," her mother explained, as the walked. "Everyone was up all night. We're just going to sleep here for a bit and go home tomorrow."

Leaning her head on her Mom's shoulder, she found herself looking forward to going home.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~

He and Bill walked together toward the owlry, Draco grabbing a sandwich from a table along the way and mentally working to find the proper words to put into his letter to his parents.

"Nice tactic," Bill said, interrupting his thoughts and motioning back to where the Weasley parents were now moving off, presumably to check on their daughter.

Draco nodded between mouthfuls of food, "I got the impression that it wasn't a wise idea to be on the bad side of your mother."

"You guessed correctly. But, oath or not, you will tell me everything, right now." His tone indicated that there was no room for discussion. Had any other of the brothers spoken to him in such a tone, Draco would have found a way to hex them out of his sight, but this was Bill, the one brother who he'd come to respect. Eventually, the story would come out, and it was best to have the opportunity to at least tell it in a favorable light.

So, Draco did, starting with his first venture to the clearing, to the Christmas presents, to their work studying dark magic. He strategically left out all references to their physical relationship, however. Bill took it all in, not interrupting. During the explanation, they sent the owl, and walked back to the Slytherin common room together, Draco collecting another sandwich along the way for Ginny.

Unfortunately, they arrived in his room, only to find it empty. Draco tossed the sandwich on his desk and gave an uncharacteristic snarl as he muttered something about "Potter" under his breath.

Bill interrupted his rant. "Something bothering you?"

"Yes, something's bothering me. She needs her sleep. She could barely keep her eyes open when I left and they had to get all over-protective and force her to move elsewhere. She was perfectly fine right here."

"Hmmph," Bill grunted in response.

Draco looked at the other, finding that he really wished the elder Weasley would leave him alone to sulk, but apparently Bill had other ideas as he was still standing in the doorway, staring at Draco intently.

Draco only raised an eyebrow in question, prompting the Weasley to tell him exactly what seemed to be bothering him.

"What exactly are your intentions with my sister?" Bill asked, seeming a bit uncomfortable.

He should have expected that type of question. Despite the fact that he'd left out all the details of their relationship, only a fool wouldn't think that there was more than a casual friendship between them. He closed his eyes and gave a long sigh, hoping to clear his thoughts before answering. It wasn't something he'd managed to put into words just yet.

"I can't say I rightly know at the moment," he replied, "It's entirely up to Ginny."

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"Not really. I'm not going to try to pressure her into anything she doesn't want, if that's what you're asking."

Bill seemed to consider his words then spoke very deliberately. "I won't mince words with you, Malfoy. Up until yesterday, you were basically at the top of my list of people that I most hated. In fact, I would have gladly killed you myself, at one point."

Somehow, Bill's admission was hardly news to Draco, but he felt it best to not interrupt.

The Weasley continued, "Somewhere in the last day, I've seen a lot of you that I didn't expect. I suppose that Ginny sees that as well, or she wouldn't trust you like she apparently does."

Draco nodded, saying nothing. He was hoping that her brother might at least be open to the idea of him being with Ginny. It would be favorable to have at least one of her family not hating him.

"I guess I'm saying, that I would prefer that you didn't hurt her," Bill finished his expression serious.

He calmly stared back at Ginny's eldest brother and answered as honestly as he could, "I think you know full well that if I had any intention of hurting her, I wouldn't have gone through saving her, or you last night, for that matter."

Bill nodded, satisfied for the moment. He put his hand on Draco's shoulder in a friendly manner. "I think they moved her up to Gryffindor Tower. That's where everyone is staying for now, taking shifts sleeping until things get sorted out. I expect to see you up there after you get cleaned up."

~ - ~ - ~ -

He arrived at the tower as the sun was setting, feeling just a bit strange giving the password to the portrait at the entrance. Aside from Bill, he was quite sure nobody wanted him there, but it was hardly enough reason to keep him away.

The common room was surprisingly empty. Only a single occupant sat in one of the chairs staring emptily at the fireplace and Draco was almost grateful to recognize the person as Neville Longbottom. The tall boy looked up at Draco, only mildly surprised upon recognizing the newcomer.

He stood up and extended a hand toward Draco, giving him a genuine smile as he said, "Glad to see you made out alright, mate."

Stunned for a moment by the unlikely welcome, he was silent for a long moment before shaking the other boy's hand, eventually responding with a simple, "You too."

Neville sat back in his seat, still looking at him, his expression somber. "You've got quite a story, I hear. Harry and Ron are just about beside themselves."

"Yeah," he replied, not quite ready to tell the story again after relaying everything to Bill. "I'm sure we all do."

Neville simply nodded and Draco was glad that the boy simply accepted him and the situation without judgment.

"Is Ginny here?" he asked, not going into more than necessary.

Neville motioned toward the long staircase behind him. "Upstairs, in the girls' dorm. Her Mum and Hermione are with her," he answered simply.

"Potter?"

"Him, Ron and the others are up on the other side, trying to get a few hours of sleep. It's my shift to keep watch, I got a few hours in this morning."

Draco nodded, feeling grateful that he would have some peace from Weasley's incessant ranting. Realizing that he wouldn't be seeing Ginny any time soon, he took a seat on the couch across from the other boy, and both stared into the fire, not speaking for a bit, in a comfortable silence.

"Colin didn't make it..." Neville said suddenly, still staring emptily at the fire.

"Creevey? The one with the camera?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, that's him."

"I'm sorry, Longbottom. I don't know what to say..." he responded. The statement was true. He truly didn't know what to say. He didn't know the sixth year Gryffindor, except for seeing him always about with his annoying camera. Yet, the world was now different, knowing that he'd never be shoving that annoying camera away again.

The other boy nodded in acknowledgment. "There's nothing to say. He wasn't ready to be out there. I suppose we should just be grateful that it wasn't worse."

"It doesn't make it any easier," Draco replied.

"No, it doesn't, but I did want to say thanks."

"Hmm?" Draco responded, confused.

"You found the way to end it, and probably saved us from losing more. You did good, mate. Even if you did keep us on a wild goose chase all year."

Draco gave a small chuckle. Somehow, the compliment from Neville meant a great deal to him in that moment and Draco suddenly realized that he actually had grown to like this boy over the months. He was steady, quiet, trustworthy. He had been the one person that Draco had been able to count on besides Ginny over the past year.

"I couldn't have done it without Ginny. And, by the way, she was the one who kept you all looking in the wrong locations. I just thought I was clever about avoiding you."

Neville gave a small smile at the remark, finding that his efforts had been confounded by the very witch he had been trying to find.

He was grateful that Neville didn't go on about anything in particular. They just sat, each with their own thoughts until late in the evening. Draco eventually transfigured a blanket for himself and made himself comfortable on the couch, deciding that it was as good a place to sleep as any.

- ~ - ~ -

He slept soundly, despite the less than optimal bedding and was eventually pulled out of his slumber by the feeling of a soft hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes to the see the room brightening with morning sunlight, and his pretty ex-nymph by his side, staring at him.

He smiled.

"You know that there are plenty of empty beds upstairs," she said teasingly.

"Yes, and your brothers and Potter are in among them. I prefer not to be murdered in my sleep, thankyouverymuch."

She laughed, that light, tinkling giggle that he'd only heard on a few rare occasions. He loved that laugh.

"I'm glad you're here," she said.

He looked about the room, verifying that they were alone and sat up, pulling her up to sit with him. She was still wearing his pajamas and he realized that he wasn't accustomed to seeing her in so much clothing. The thought bothered him for a moment, but then he realized that he didn't want anyone else seeing her in any less. He decided that it was a compromise he was willing to live with.

"I'm only here for you. They smuggled you away from my room," he said, letting his annoyance show at the recent events. He'd been overwhelmingly disappointed that she was gone when he'd returned and was still spoiled enough to voice his dissatisfaction.

She smacked him on the arm, chuckling at his childish display. She'd seen it before and fortunately, had managed to think of it as endearingly cute. "Don't you start," she scolded as she curled up onto his lap. "I wanted to be with my Mum anyway. They haven't seen me in months. You need to learn to share," she finished, poking him lightly on the chest to emphasize her point.

He gave her his best pout, and was delighted when it earned him a kiss.

"The others will be up soon. I've got to get showered and dressed," she explained, attempting to pull away from him.

He stopped her by wrapping his arms around her waist, giving her the impression of a small child who was having his toy taken away. She looked at him sternly, and the memory of her exploding in anger at her brother made him rethink his tactic.

"Are you sure about the getting dressed part?" he asked teasingly, giving her his most intense look, as it had worked on her in the past.

She blushed and hid her face in the crook of his neck. "I'm sure."

He delighted in the fact that his small bit of manipulation had apparently worked. Continuing along that vein, he said, "I'm starting to have very mixed feelings about bringing you back. I'm not sure I like sharing you this much."

One of the doors upstairs opened, the sound making Ginny jump from her cozy position in his lap. The action made Draco scowl as he looked up to see Potter, sleepily walking toward what he assumed was the bathroom. Fortunately, he didn't look down to see them together.

She used the distraction to pull away from him. As she stood up, he could sense her uneasiness at being seen with him, causing him to feel more than just a little annoyed and once again bringing up his insecurity about her feelings for Potter. He said nothing as she stood up, trying to attempt not to scowl at her.

"I'll see you soon, yeah?" she said encouragingly.

"Yeah," he responded grumpily. She kissed him, but even that didn't lighten his mood as she ran back up the stairs to her own room.

~ - ~ - ~ -

He stalked off to find himself some breakfast, finding a few other early risers in the Great Hall. He spoke to none of them, although he got more than one odd look, and an occasional nod of acknowledgment. Most were still in shock over the battle, lost in their own thoughts as they went through their daily tasks.

While wandering through the area, he noticed that lists of those injured and killed had been posted. He stood in front of the parchment for many long minutes, finding names of former friends and adversaries. He was saddened to see that Parkinson's name was there, as well as Crabbe. Despite the fact that he held no loyalty toward them, they had been companions over the years, and Pansy had at least tried to help in her twisted way.

He stopped by his room after that to shower and dress for the day, but found that the Slytherin common room now held an empty, eerie feeling that he hadn't felt before. Thoughts of former friends, now gone, mixed with the realization of how he'd changed over the year, causing him to suddenly feel oddly uncomfortable. He turned his thoughts to his room and the recent memory of waking up with Ginny beside him brought a smile to his face. He was grateful for having one good memory here during the past year or so. With that thought, he turned to leave the common room for the last time.

By the time he returned to the tower, he hoped that he had procrastinated long enough for most of the occupants to have all woken and left. There had been talk during breakfast that everyone was expected to leave the castle by evening, to begin assessing damage and effecting repairs. He would be going home soon, as would Ginny, and he needed to speak with her, alone, before then.

To his great disappointment, he arrived back in the Griffindor common room to find Ginny having an apparently cozy conversation with St. Potter, so deeply involved in their conversation, that his entry went unnoticed. He hung back in the shadow of the doorway to listen.

"Even Neville trusts him, Harry. He's changed. A lot has changed without you here."

"And you've changed too, apparently," he said, his voice slightly bitter.

"Yes, I've changed. How wouldn't I? Think about it. I spent most of the year living in a completely different world than what we have here. It was amazing, Harry. I want so much to tell you all about it."

Draco continued to stand in the shadows, not sure he liked the tone of the conversation but he clenched his fists and forced himself to not interrupt. He was insecure about Ginny when it came to Potter and he was willing to admit it, if only to himself. She had been Potter's girlfriend, after all, and Potter was the big hero. It wasn't right of him to be eavesdropping but he had an overwhelming need to know exactly how she felt. He decided that, if she was going to choose Potter, he'd rather know immediately, and be on his way, rather than face the humiliation of her telling him directly.

"You spent months with him," Potter replied flatly.

She looked at Potter sympathetically, "Yes, Harry, I spent a lot of time with him. As I already told you, he was my... assignment."

Her words hurt. Draco had hoped that they'd grown past that, but upon hearing her words, he began to doubt even more. He watched Potter brighten in hope and cursed silently for allowing himself to have become so vulnerable.

"Well, now your assignment is over. You're back. I'm back. Ginny, you are all I thought about for months," Potter said taking her hand. "You've no idea how much I've missed you. I can try to forget about what happened downstairs, although why we shouldn't kill him for that, I've no idea. You were practically unconscious for heaven's sake!"

She pulled her hand from his grasp, using her hands to emphasize as she spoke, obviously agitated. "Harry, nothing happened downstairs. We were asleep. That's all," she said sounding as if she'd addressed this issue with him before.

"I trust you, Gin. It's him I don't trust."

She dropped her head, hiding her face in her hands, the anguish of her expression far too visible. She regretted it, Draco was now sure. She regretted ever being with him. He waited quietly in the shadows and braced himself for what he now expected to hear her say.

She looked up and took both of Potter's hands in her own, staring at him imploringly. "Harry, please listen to me."

"Anything for you, Gin, you know that."

A tear dropped from her eye, though she didn't bother to wipe it away. "Harry, please understand that you left me."

He saw a look of desperation enter his rival's eyes in that moment, both young wizards now anxiously waiting on her next words.

"Gin, I..."

She stopped him, however, by continuing what she'd started to say. "Harry, you broke up with me, and then you left. You didn't think that I would be of any use to you. Well, I found a way to become useful."

"You did, Ginny, and..."

"...and along the way, I found a new life and I moved on," she finished.

Draco watched as the color drained from Potter's face. He also realized that he himself hadn't taken a breath in quite a while, and fought to suck in air without making any noise.

"What are you saying?" he heard Potter ask, disbelievingly.

"I'm saying that I fell in love with him, Harry."

Potter got up and started pacing, running his hand through his already messy hair. "You can't be serious! I mean... do you have any idea of what you are saying?"

"Yes," she said softly, "I do."

Draco thought about leaving the room, but he really had no place else that he wanted to go. He wanted to be with his witch. He then decided to just make it appear as if he'd just arrived, so they wouldn't think he'd overheard the whole thing, although he was particularly pleased to have been privy to watching Potter get dumped by the most desirable witch in school. It made up for all the times Potter had beaten him in Quidditch...almost.

Walking back to the portrait, he opened and closed the entrance as loudly as he could without sounding obvious, clearing his throat to draw their attention.

As he entered the room, he saw the two of them in a hug, Ginny trying to comfort, Potter looking a bit like his world had just ended. When they broke apart, Ginny greeting Draco with a pleasant smile, Potter looking at him with a mixture of anger and defeat.

"Hey," he said casually, directing the remark to Ginny. "Potter," he said, as neutrally as possible, to acknowledge the other. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything..." he said, trying not to sound taunting. There were times to bait Potter, but this wasn't one of them.

"We were just finished," she said, smiling shyly at him. He gave her his best, endearing smile in return.

Harry cleared his throat to interrupt, looking more than a little uncomfortable at Draco's interruption. Draco forced himself not to gloat, mostly because he knew that it would only anger Ginny. Potter turned to her, sounding like he was looking for a reason to leave gracefully. "I'm going upstairs to pack. We're planning on leaving right after lunch."

She nodded. "Bill's taking me back later. I have some people that I need to find first to say goodbye," she told him.

Potter looked disappointed, giving Draco a curt nod but said nothing as he began to turn to leave. At least Potter had the character to lose gracefully. Feeling generous, he said, "Potter."

Potter stopped and turned back, responding with a half-hearted, "Yeah?"

"Good work last night," he said.

Potter looked stunned for a moment and Draco presumed that the other was trying to judge the sincerity of the remark. After a long moment, he just said sincerely, "You too," and turned again to leave.

Draco turned to Ginny after his rival had left the area. "Say goodbye?" he repeated, hoping that he wasn't included in that list.

"I was hoping you'd come with me. I don't know when I'll be back here and I wanted to say goodbye to Elora and Reya and the others.

"I'd be honored. Did you want to go now?"

"Now would be fine. Mum packed up my things for me this morning. I think she's already planning a welcome home feast. Bill said he's willing to wait for me to Apparate home together."

"Well, let's go then," he said, offering her his arm. "We'd best tell someone though, I don't want to be accused of kidnapping you again."

- - -

Bill waited for them by the lake as they wandered into the forest, each on-guard. The forest was no longer a safe refuge for them, now that Ginny no longer held the power of a nymph. Nevertheless, they didn't feel completely vulnerable. There were friends there, after all, and they felt that, surely, they would be protected while they went to visit.

Entering the clearing, Draco was the first to notice the glimmer of unnatural movement in the trees that signified a nymph in hiding. He pointed it to Ginny.

"You are going to have to tell me how you do that some day," she said enviously.

"Oh no. I have to keep some secrets from you."

She turned to give him a playful glare and by the time she turned back to the clearing, a half dozen nymphs had appeared. She jumped, slightly surprised by the sudden sight, but before she could speak she was being embraced by her friends.

Draco waited patiently while she spoke with the nymphs, the cheerful beings all eagerly relaying their observations about the battle, each also very interested in hearing every detail of Ginny's experience.

The afternoon passed quickly, Draco contributing very little to the conversation, except when asked to relay his own story, but he was fascinated nonetheless. The nymphs were very empathetic creatures, trying to grow in wisdom and experience by analyzing every detail and nuance they saw in others. As beings of peace, they would never experience war first hand, and were particularly intrigued by what motivated each individual in the battle.

He was particularly surprised by the way they blended very conflicting feelings and observations. They had been saddened by the loss of life on both sides of the battle, yet among the chaos they each had observed things that were positive and encouraging.

With the sun sinking lower in they sky, the nymphs began to bid them farewell as they began to disappear one by one into the depths of the forest. Only Reya remained, and he was about to remind Ginny that it was time to go when the red-headed centaur that had threatened him so many months ago entered the clearing.

Draco once again felt his temper rise as he recognized Tenere, but Reya placed a hand quietly on his arm as he watched his Ginny squeal in joy at the centaur's arrival.

"I thought Ginny talked with you about how it is best to rise above petty jealousies," the slender brown-haired nymph said teasingly.

He indulged in a moment of silently cursing the annoyingly wise creatures, remembering his conversation with Ginny about her feelings about him eventually marrying. Eventually he responded, "She was talking about herself at the time. I didn't realize that she had been trying to tell me anything."

Reya gave a gentle laugh at his remark.

He watched as Ginny's eyes lit in joy as she talked to the centaur, holding his hands as she chatted on about her family and such. Thanking him for his decision about the battle. He watched the centaur's gaze soften in affection, as he'd seen before.

"Tenere is quite taken with her, but she never returned his favor. She only ever felt drawn to you," the nymph told him kindly.

He forced himself to look away from the pair to turn toward the nymph, "While that makes me feel better, I'm still not sure that I trust him."

The nymph smiled, teasing laughter in her eyes. Draco realized that they all seemed to have that same look about them, a mixture of serene calm and teasing mischief. Ginny had never really looked like that in all the months he'd seen her in the forest. She truly never belonged among them.

"Nevertheless, she is quite fond of him. You mustn't be jealous of sharing her friendship."

"I'm not, I suppose," he said. "It's good to see her so happy. She never really was before."

Reya looked over at Ginny as she laughed over something Tenere had said, her eyes alight with unrestrained joy. "She had brief moments when she was with you, but overall, no, she would never have been truly happy here. She's with you now, and those that she loves. Her love of the forest never would have been able to match that. She's where she belongs. Everything is as it should be."

He gave the nymph a wry look. "You sound just like Elora."

The nymph bounced a little and giggled with joy, "Oh, thank you!"

He wasn't quite sure why such a comment would make her so happy and decided he'd just ask Ginny about it later. At the moment, he was drawn back to watching Ginny's interaction with the centaur, as she seemed to have finished her conversation and had jumped into his arms to be embraced in an enormous hug. He fought down the urge to feel jealous, as she kissed him sweetly on the cheek before he placed her back down.

The centaur looked back at her with a look of regret and tried to convince her to stay regardless, and Draco clenched his fists as he resisted the urge to pull her away from the beast.

"You all knew how this would turn out, didn't you," he said to Reya, his gaze still on Ginny.

"It was in the winds, yes, but in the end, we could only hope that she had learned enough to follow the proper path. When she made her choice, we all rejoiced."

"And if she didn't, and I died?" he asked, looking at Reya for her response.

"There were many possible outcomes. We would have done our best to help her in whatever way. She would have been cared for. Eventually she would have found peace, if not happiness," she said. "But it is not good to dwell on what might have been," she continued.

He nodded and turned back to see the centaur departing and Ginny bouncing toward him, her eyes bright with happiness. When she reached him, she compulsively threw her arms around him in a warm embrace, which he happily returned, the memory of the centaur rapidly fading from his thoughts. He bent his head to kiss her, claiming her once again as his own. She would always be his little nymph, mischievous and playful and happy, if he had any say in the matter.

She broke away from his embrace to turn and give Reya a warm hug. "Thank you," Ginny said, "for everything."

Reya simply smiled. "We only opened the door for you. You had to make the choice to walk through."

Ginny looked a bit confused by the nymph's words, making Draco smile. He would have to explain later that he'd figured out the nymphs plan for them. Waving a warm farewell to the couple, the nymph gave a final impish smile and darted off into the foliage.

"Will you miss that?" he asked, motioning in the direction that Reya disappeared. "Will you miss all the power and knowledge that they have?" hoping he already knew the answer.

She thought for a moment, giving him reason for concern, before she answered, "No, there are a few things I might miss a little, but overall, I would much rather be back in my own world."

"With me?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"With you," she replied, smiling.

Her answer finally lifting the shreds of doubt that had remained with him, even after hearing her conversation with Potter.

"That's good," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into one more kiss before taking her hand to walk out of the clearing for the last time.

As they exited the forest, the sun was setting, casting the area in a fiery golden glow. The castle in the distance was washed in a golden hue against the deep green carpet of the hills in the distance, the contrast of colors making the area seem ethereal.

While the sight didn't hold the magical aura of the Enchanted realm, it was still striking and, in a way, more beautiful. They paused to take it in, neither saying a word as they walked back to their own world together, holding hands, thinking of their future.

~ - - - -

A/N – Hey folks! Thanks for reading this all the way through. I hope you enjoyed it. It took a while, because, as you can see, the chapter is quite long, and I really couldn't find a way to break it up nicely.

The last paragraph was actually quite difficult to get right, and I'm not sure that it entirely captures the image I am trying to convey, so it may get an adjustment later, but I didn't want to hold up the ending just for that, as it's quite close.

I had a thought for continuing the story, as our couple still has some hurdles to overcome. Ginny still needs to finish school – almost two years worth, while Draco is basically done, but they will likely manage without me.

Thank you again. Your feedback and encouragement for this story have been so very, very appreciated. Particular thanks to those of you who have stayed with me from the beginning.

Best Wishes.

Gidge


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